


After Night Comes Dawn

by beren



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Figure Skating RPS
Genre: M/M, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beren/pseuds/beren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Losing Self

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of weeks ago, I didn't know there WAS such a thing as a Vampire Big Bang. One of my flisties asked if anyone might be interested in doing art for the project, and as soon as I saw beren's summary, I was hooked. Here's my humble effort to do her story justice.

**Title:** After Night Comes Dawn 1 of 5  
 **Author:** [](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**beren_writes**](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** Figure Skating RPS  
 **Pairing:** Johnny Weir/Stéphane Lambiel, Johnny Weir/Evan Lysacek, Johnny Weir/Stéphane Lambiel/Evan Lysacek  
 **Rating:** NC17/18  
 **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.  
 **Warnings:** threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language  
 **Summary:** AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.  
 **Author's Notes:** Thanks to Soph for the beta and the mods of [](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**vampirebigbang**](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/) for running the fest. Also thanks to [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) for the wonderful art work and dividers you can see in the fic posts and [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/) for coming up with the wonderful mix (to see the mix follow the link below).  
 **Word count:**  
[ My Fanfic Listings (LJ)](http%20http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/485699.html) | [My Fanfic Listings (DreamW)](http://beren-writes.dreamwidth.org/130047.html)

 **Artist:** [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/)  
 **Artist's note:** A couple of weeks ago, I didn't know there WAS such a thing as a Vampire Big Bang. One of my flisties asked if anyone might be interested in doing art for the project, and as soon as I saw beren's summary, I was hooked. Here's my humble effort to do her story justice.  
 **Art Link:** All the art is in situ in the fic, but please consider leaving feedback for [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) at [this art only post](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/341488.html?mode=reply).

 **Mixer** [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/)  
 **Mix link:** [Please leave mix feedback on this post](http://solookup.livejournal.com/1085785.html)

  


**Chapter 1 Losing Self**

Johnny was lost, as in very, very lost and he wasn't sure how he'd managed it. He had been walking down a perfectly normal street in Moscow on his way to an appointment with a local agent that Tara had set up. They'd specially squeezed him in that evening and they were meeting in a restaurant, because he was flying back to the States at some god forsaken hour in the morning. Why he had taken the dingy side street he had no idea, but by the time his brain had caught up with the fact that he was walking in the wrong direction it had been way too late. Where he was he had no idea and it was dimly lit and full of inky black shadows and he began to feel afraid.

"You have a strong mind, Kitten," a voice said from behind him and he span to see a man standing half in shadow; "I almost couldn't ensnare you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded, hoping that a little ire might make the man think twice about coming anywhere near him.

He scanned the area looking for any possible bolt holes, but it seemed to be an alley with many locked doors and not a lot else.

"So pretty," the man said in a very unsettling manner.

When the man stepped forward, Johnny stepped back; he knew it was a sign of weakness, but he did not want the man any closer than necessary. If he had to run he wanted as much head start as possible. There was something about the stranger that set off alarms in Johnny's head and it wasn't just the fact the man was a creep.

"I had to work very hard to keep that pretty mind occupied while I enticed you here," the man said, smiling and showing very white teeth. "I enjoy a challenge."

Clearly the man was short of a full deck, but he was tall and broad shouldered and Johnny knew if it came to hand to hand he was well out matched. It didn't look as if the stranger had a weapon and Johnny was an athlete; he could run fast when he had to. His shoes weren't exactly made for it, but he was pretty sure he could make a dash for it. The man laughed at him, as if he knew what he was thinking.

"You can run," the man said, just standing there casually and then suddenly he wasn't ten feet away anymore, he was right there in front of Johnny, "but you can't get away."

Every muscle in Johnny's body froze as a primal terror took hold of him. The man smiled again, this time revealing long, sharp fangs and, this close, Johnny could see the red gleam in his assailant's eyes. His mind screamed at him to run, but his limbs were rigid in fear. Somewhere deep inside he knew that this was no human.

"So delicate," the creature said, reaching out and running his knuckle down the side of Johnny's face, "and yet so strong."

His breath came in short sharp gasps as the creature ran the other hand over his chest and under his coat.

"I'm going to enjoy you, Kitten," his assailant said, licking his lips; "I might even enjoy you enough to keep you. Would you like that, Kitten? Would you revel in the killing?"

Johnny wanted to say no, to protest what was happening, but he could barely breathe, let alone speak. This couldn't be real; vampires didn't exist; it had to be some twisted nightmare. He finally regained control of his body when the thing reached out to him, but it was too late; the grip that settled on his upper arms was too strong and he struggled, but he could not free himself. The vampire drew him in, pulling him closer and closer before letting go of one of his arms and using the now free hand to push his head to one side.

All he could hear was the rushing of blood in his ears as his heart beat wildly in terror, his system soaked with adrenaline. He was completely helpless and, when fangs sliced into his neck, he finally screamed. The pain was incredible as if somehow magnified by the hyperaware state the fear had put his body into, but it lasted only a few seconds before he felt himself go limp and pleasure flooded his system. He didn't want to respond; his mind was still screaming in denial, but the bite was like the sweetest, lover's caress; it lit up centres of his brain he had hardly known were there. His logical thoughts shouted at him to resist, to push away the creature assaulting him, but his physical shell seemed to be in some sex soaked haze. He felt himself getting hard even though the fear should have robbed him of that ability. It was as if his mind and his body were completely separate.

When he was released and the pleasure was suddenly cut off his body had no way to respond. His legs crumpled and he fell to the ground, just about managing to avoid taking a header into the concrete, but barely. His vision was swimming as he tried to look around and he could hear growling and shouting, but none of it made much sense. About all he could make out was that there were other people there now as well. Someone was cursing in Russian and then there was a hideously loud, animalistic screaming sound, but he could not focus on anything to figure out what was going on.

In the back of his mind a little voice tried to tell him to get up and flee, but his body just laughed at the idea. He could barely lift his head, let alone stand. Only when hands touched him did he try to get away as his fear response fired again, remembering the hands from before.

"Hold him," he heard someone say.

The hands that grabbed him firmly this time were not as inhumanly strong as before, but he was so weak and uncoordinated that they didn't need to be. Someone pushed his head to one side and he attempted to struggle, but he couldn't.

"No," was all he could manage in desperation and he didn't know if it came out in English or Russian.

"He's been bitten," the man who had given the order to hold him said.

"Look at his eyes," a second voice said; "he's half gone."

"But not completely," a third added, this one was female; he was almost sure.

"Just kill him and be done with it, Michal" the second voice said with callous disinterest.

He struggled at that, but he was held firm.

"You would make us as bad as them," the female voice said.

"We'll take him with us," the first voice finally spoke again. "Kirill, hold him tightly, I'm going to purify the wound."

The person behind him wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled his head to one side very firmly. He heard something being opened and then liquid was being poured onto his neck. At first it felt like water, but then it hit where he had been bitten and it was as if they were pouring acid onto his skin. He couldn't even scream; the pain was that encompassing and he grunted just before everything went blissfully black as he passed out.

  


Waking up was strange, because he still felt as if he was almost dreaming. Everything seemed vaguely blurred at the edges and his brain didn't seem to be quite connected to his body correctly. He was in the back of a moving van, that much he could work out straight away, and he seemed to be propped up in one corner of it. For a little while he just stayed exactly where he was, blinking down and trying to make something, anything, make sense.

It eventually dawned on him that he was looking at his own hands and around his wrists there seemed to be some sort of manacle. They looked very silver and had strange designs on them and for a few minutes he just stared at them. Only when he realised that the fuzziness at the edge of his vision was not going to go away did he finally lift his head. It was then he felt something cold around his neck as well and he realised there was a chain running from the short one between the manacles all the way up to what had to be a collar of some sort. The chain jangled as he moved and he found himself looking at a dark haired young woman who appeared to be watching him intently.

"Who are you?" he asked, since it seemed like a sensible question.

All the others in his head seemed to be too fanciful to start with.

"Zhanna," the woman said, still looking him over very carefully.

"Don't get attached, Zhanna," the man sitting next to her said shortly and Johnny recognised his voice as the one who had suggested killing him; "he could be dead in hours."

Zhanna didn't seem impressed by that and actually gave Johnny an apologetic smile.

"That's Anton," she said, leaning forward; "ignore him; he enjoys looking on the dark side. The man driving is Michal and the one sitting next to him is Kirill. What's your name?"

"Johnny," he replied and tried to shift a little where he was sitting, but only managed to upset his balance and start to slide.

Zhanna leant forward, gently putting him back in place as he totally failed to help himself. He seemed to be as weak as a baby.

"You will feel very weak," she told him, "I would not recommend trying to move. Do you remember what happened to you?"

The memory flashed very clearly into Johnny's head and he shivered as he remembered the fangs sinking into his skin.

"I was bitten by a vampire," he said, even though it sounded ridiculous to his ears.

"At least he's not in denial," Anton said and Johnny decided he really didn't like the man much.

Anton looked to be somewhere between thirty and forty and he had a face that did not smile easily.

"What happened after I was bitten?" Johnny asked, looking to Zhanna for answers, since she seemed willing to give them.

"We killed the monster that attacked you," Zhanna replied, sitting back once she was sure he was secure in his seat; "it's what we do, we're vampire hunters."

Of course they were; Johnny decided his night couldn't get much more bizarre.

"And me?" he asked, even though he wasn't sure the answer would be a good one.

Zhanna looked kind of sad and apologetic at that and Johnny was afraid he knew the answer.

"The bite begins the change," Zhanna told him; "you've already started to turn. We're taking you somewhere to get you help. Usually vampires kill those they bite before they can turn completely and if they chose to create more of their kind they reinforce the change over a series of nights with more bites. Since you have only been bitten once, there is a chance it can be stopped."

Anton snorted at that; clearly it was not a big chance.

"And if it can't?" Johnny asked, even though he already knew the answer, after all vampire hunters killed vampires.

Zhanna clearly realised that he understood already.

"Would you really want to be a monster?" she asked him. "The change takes away all humanity; you would kill your own friends for their blood or for one night of sex."

Johnny couldn't imagine being like that or feeling like that and he realised the truth of her words. He did not want to be a monster, but he didn't want to die either. It was hard to find anything else to say.

"Do not give up hope," Zhanna told him seriously and he wanted to believe her, he really did, but Anton's reaction had been so obvious.

Putting his head back against the van he closed his eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening, at least for a little while.

"Johnny," Zhanna's voice pulled him back and it was only as he realised they had stopped that it dawned on him he had been drifting completely in a world of his own.

He had barely been aware that any time had passed at all.

Zhanna was on one knee in front of him and his eyes zeroed in on the fact that she was holding a syringe.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, genuine concern for him in her voice, "but it is too dangerous for us to transfer you inside while you are awake. This will put you to sleep for an hour or so and when you wake up you will be where people can help you."

He would have objected, but she was already pushing the needle into the undamaged side of his neck before his slow moving brain caught up with what she was doing.

"If I don't make it," he said desperately, even as he felt the drug begin to kick in, "my mom ... please ... tell her ..."

The world faded out before he could get the words out.

  


The second time Johnny woke up he was lying down and the first thing he realised was that he was very firmly strapped to the bed he was lying on. He could barely move and he looked down at himself and realised there were reinforced leather straps over his chest, pelvis and thighs and there were cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He had been stripped to the waist and one of his arms was strapped down to his side and the other was at about 45 degrees to his body. It was on some kind of padded board for ease of access. There were tubes sticking out of the crook of his arm and they appeared to be carrying blood.

"Welcome back," said a voice that sounded far too cheerful for the situation, "Zhanna tells me your name is Johnny."

He turned his head, about the only part of his body he could move, and found himself looking at a man in a white coat. He barely remembered to nod.

"I haven't had a long term patient for a while," the man said with a smile and impeccable English, "so my bedside manner is a little rusty, I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me."

"What's going on?" he asked, confused and afraid.

This was not what he'd imagined; crosses and holy water had been more like it, not machines and mad scientists. The room was tiled white on all walls and he couldn't see the floor, but he could see the camera looking right at him.

"I'm Dr Ivanov, but you can call me Yuri," the man told him. "We're giving you a complete blood transfusion at the moment to try and get as much of the contaminant out of you as possible. The vampire infected your blood and it has started to infect the rest of you as well, but the less of it there is the better."

"It is working?" he asked, kind of desperate for some sort of hope.

"You're not rejecting the new blood, which is a positive sign," Yuri told him, walking up beside him and checking the machine.

Johnny didn't feel quite so fuzzy this time, but everything still had a kind of surreal edge to it. He also felt rather warm even though he wasn't wearing a shirt and Yuri had a jacket and a roll neck sweater on.

"How long will I be here?" he asked, since he couldn't think of any other question that wouldn't have a bad answer.

"It's impossible to tell," Yuri said, not unkindly, but the man seemed to be a little short on empathy, "it differs from individual to individual. You appear to have a very strong will and I'm not going to lie to you; what I'm doing is only an aid to your own body. This is ten percent scientific and ninety percent metaphysical; a lot of it will be down to you. Whatever you do, do not give up."

It was hard to have hope when the world had just gone mad, but Johnny gave a little nod.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked, trying to distract himself a little from his own position.

Being forcefully strapped down was not his idea of fun and he hated being confined.

"Twenty years or so," Yuri replied, checking the readout on another machine that Johnny neither understood nor recognised. "I was in medical school when my brother was taken by a vampire. Michal and his team saved the rest of my family and when I qualified I offered them my services. I have been studying vampire contamination ever since, although I very rarely have a chance to see a patient before it is too late."

Not exactly the greatest prognosis.

"Ever saved anyone?" Johnny asked next, even though he knew it was probably a bad idea.

"Just one," was the straightforward and honest answer, "a young girl, she was five at the time. She had been bitten by her mother, little more than a scratch really and she responded well to the treatments."

Johnny could feel the wadding on his neck; his wound was anything but a scratch.

"How many others have you treated?" he said and he was almost sure he didn't want the answer, but he was the kind of person who liked to know the odds.

Yuri gave him a long look then.

"Seventeen," was the eventual answer. "Vampires are messy eaters; their victims are usually dead before I see them and the ones that are brought to me are often too far gone. The one who took you must have wanted to turn you, but he was not careful about where he did it."

For a moment Johnny flashed back to the alley.

"He said he had trouble with my mind," he said, needing to pull himself out of the memory, "maybe he didn't have a choice."

That made Yuri's eyes light up with interest.

"Another mark in your favour," the doctor told him cheerfully; "there are very few with the ability to fight off a vampire mind, at least those from the Russian bloodlines. As far as we can tell vampirism originated in this part of the world, no one is sure how, but the bloodlines become weaker the further away they are from the source. Russian vampires are a lot stronger than American ones, or so I have been told."

Vampire 101 was all very well, but Johnny was having trouble with just the basic facts. His brain was still screaming this could not be real and he half expected to wake up at any moment.

"How can this be real?" he asked almost desperately.

He pulled against his bonds, needing to feel something that didn't make his head spin.

"Sssh," Yuri soothed, at his side almost instantly, stroking his hair like his mother sometimes did, "I know this is hard, but you must not give in to the fear. When my brother came at me out of the darkness, fangs bared, ready to kill me, I did not want to believe it either, but I did not allow it to break me. Your mind is your greatest weapon, do not allow it to weaken."

Johnny wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, but instead he took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to bring himself under control.

"You and I together," Yuri told him, "we will beat this."

All Johnny could do was nod and let himself believe, in the other direction lay madness.

In the end Yuri spent what had to have been hours completing the transfusion. They talked a little, but Johnny found that the procedure was making him woozy and he dozed for some of the time. Yuri was moving around doing whatever he had to do and Johnny just drifted; he only really came back to himself when Yuri walked over holding a needle.

"The transfusion is complete," Yuri told him with a smile. "You seem to be responding well, so I'm going to make you more comfortable. Unfortunately I can't take the risk of doing so when you're awake, so I'm going to put you out for a little while. When you wake up we'll see about getting you something to eat, okay?"

Johnny did not like drugs and he did not like needles, but it wasn't like he had a choice, so he nodded. He didn't even feel the needle go in and he welcomed the empty blackness that reached up for him as soon as the drug hit his system; at least he didn't have to think at all for a while.

When he woke up the next time, he was still on the bed, but the straps were gone and the bed had been moved to another position in the room. Instead of the straps there were chains like the one he had been wearing in the van, only these were attached to the wall as well as each other. The one good thing about them was that they were loose and he could move. Testing his new freedom, he slowly sat up. Someone, he assumed Yuri, had given him a shirt as well, which made him feel less like a lab rat and more like a human being.

Since they were holding him prisoner, he examined the chains. They really didn't look like they'd hold a determined man, let alone a vampire, but there were tiny designs all over them and he had the feeling their strength was not totally in their metallic content. On closer inspection the chains were not attached to the wall either, they went through it and from the looks of the scuff marks they moved in and out of the holes. It made Johnny wonder how far they could be retracted.

"Hello again," Yuri's familiar voice interrupted his investigation and he realised he had missed the door opening, "you are looking much healthier now. I've brought you some soup."

Yuri was carrying a tray and when the doctor uncovered it the scent of food reached Johnny's nostrils. What was peculiar was that most of him thought it smelt delicious, but another part was screaming it was disgusting and to get it as far away from him as possible.

"Your stomach's going to feel a little delicate," Yuri said and Johnny realised his dilemma must have shown on his face, "but just eat as much as you can. Natural human processes slow down the rate of vampire corruption, so you're going to feel a little at war with yourself."

It was an adequate description of how he was feeling, so Johnny did not question the information and just accepted it. He scooted back a bit so that he was leaning against the wall and then accepted the tray.

"Thank you," he said, feeling hungry even though he would have expected the situation to have taken away his appetite.

"Zhanna is a very good cook and I believe the soup is her mother's recipe," Yuri told him with a smile, "I will pass on your thanks. Now eat up, you need your strength."

Yuri was right, the soup was indeed delicious and full of chunky vegetables and meat and, even though he had to convince himself not to spit it out half the time, Johnny did enjoy it. He felt more than a little schizophrenic, but he did feel a bit better with food inside of him. It was such a good feeling after everything that had been happening, not matter how slight, that he actually managed to give Yuri a smile when he took the tray away.

"That is better," Yuri told him and smiled back, "I think we are going to be very good friends."

Johnny hoped so, he really did, because the moment Yuri was his enemy, he was a monster.

"Now," Yuri said after putting the tray down on the side, "I need to examine the wound on your neck. I'm going to retract the chains a little while I do it, vampire instinct can be overwhelming and I need to make sure you cannot bite me."

It was not what Johnny wanted to hear, but he could understand the reasoning. His difficulties with the simple task of eating had shown him more than enough to realise where Yuri was coming from.

"If you sit between the holes in the wall," Yuri told him when he nodded, "this will be easier."

Johnny did as he was told and then Yuri picked up what looked like a remote control and pressed a button. He felt more than heard a low pitched hum and then chains on his restraints began to shorten. Before long he was basically pinned against the wall.

"These don't look like normal chains," he said, trying to head off the panic he felt by talking, "how do they work?"

Yuri walked over with a small dish in one hand and lent down over him.

"They are reinforced with ancient spells," the doctor told him while gently pulling off the gauze on his neck. "The world of vampires is as much about belief as it is about anything scientific, more so really, and the belief behind the spells makes them unbreakable for a vampire. Even the strongest of them could not break them."

"Met many?" he asked, doing his best not to think about the whole water feeling like acid experience of the last time someone had looked at his neck.

"A few," Yuri told him and gently began to clean his neck with something. "This is healing very fast; it will probably be gone by tomorrow night."

From the frown on the man's face, that probably wasn't a good thing.

"To be expected I suppose," Yuri said, frown clearing, "not to worry. At least it will not cause you discomfort. Now I have a few tests I would like to run, I hope you are feeling up to it."

Nodding Johnny just accepted the inevitable, after all, Yuri was his only hope.

  


It was really strange, Johnny knew the instant it was dawn, even though he had no way of finding it out by normal means. Yuri had run his tests and they had talked, although Johnny shied away from giving his captors any details about himself, and everything had been going fine until suddenly Johnny found it incredibly difficult to keep his eyes open. It felt as if the energy was draining out of him.

Yuri was off in the corner looking at something or other, chatting away to him in Russian and Johnny was so tired that all he could do was lie down. He wasn't even really aware when he drifted off to sleep, but it had to have happened, because his dreams inevitably took him back to the alley.

The fear that was gripping his heart felt like a vice and the pain of those fangs in his throat mixed with the pleasure this time, creeping through his body. He could feel it in every cell and it called to him, dragging him down with the mixture of heaven and hell. The thing that was biting him was nothing to what was inside his own body, trying to consume him from within, and he woke up breathing hard, almost sobbing as he tried to fight it off.

He was lying on his side in the harsh light of the tiled room and he was not alone, but his companion was not Yuri.

"Hello," Zhanna said, giving him a worried once over, "are you alright?"

Johnny was pretty sure he was further from alright then he had ever been, but that wasn't really what Zhanna was asking. He ached and he felt as if there was something alive under his skin, but he had a feeling that was a lot better than it could have been. Anton had said he could have been dead in hours and it had been plenty of hours already.

"I'll be okay," is what he decided to say, sitting up slowly and carefully.

The chains rattled and made him feel rather self-conscious, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Yuri is impressed with your progress," Zhanna said and smiled at him; "you are doing very well."

"Not dead yet," he said, feeling in a rather black mood.

"Which is remarkable," Zhanna told him with typical Russian sincerity; it was the kind of thing that was hard not to believe. "Peter, the vampire who took you, was one of the old ones, we have been trying to destroy him for years. You must have intoxicated him for us to finally be able to get close enough to do it. His bloodline is very strong, that you did not turn before dawn is incredible. There is real hope for you now."

It was quite a speech and one that actually made him stop the downward spiral of his thoughts. Both Yuri and Zhanna had told him his mind was his greatest weapon and sinking into depression would not help him. He was strong; he'd fought unwinnable battles before and he was not going to give up.

"Is there anymore of that soup?" he asked, sitting a little straighter on his bed.

He was not hungry, but if eating would slow down any changes it could only be good for him. Zhanna nodded and smiled, clearly reading his thought processes from his body language.

"Of course," she said and stood up, "I will get you some. My mother would be very proud to have her recipe being put to such good use."

Johnny had the distinct impression that Zhanna's mother was no longer among the living and he could not help wondering if it had something to do with vampires. It wasn't as if vampire hunting was a profession that advertised in the papers or anything like that and he suspected a person had to have a very good reason to take it up. He did not ask though, he just gave Zhanna a half smile for the pep talk.

"Here," Zhanna said and picked something up off the bench, "it will help to see you are still yourself."

What she passed him was a hand mirror and then she walked out of the room. For a moment Johnny did not move, an irrational fear making him think he would not see a whole reflection, but he told himself he was being ridiculous and finally moved his hand so he could see himself.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror he could see he was different, in fact he couldn't help cataloguing the changes no matter what Zhanna had said. His skin was paler even than it had been and his eyes were definitely not their normal green. There was an almost yellow tinge to them that made him think of cats or wolves rather than his eyes and his cheek bones were even more chiselled than normal. At a glance someone probably wouldn't have noticed really, but he was very familiar with his own face, it was part of his livelihood and he could see it all too clearly; there was something not quite human lurking under the surface.

He could feel it and he could see it and he wondered how long he would know the difference. It was obvious he was changing, even with what Yuri had been doing to him and he couldn't help thinking he was not winning the fight. Slowly he put down the mirror and then sat back on his bed, curling his feet under him. It was hard to make himself believe that his fight was not an impossible one.

  


It was just before dawn on the second night, Johnny could feel the light coming, when pain ripped through his upper jaw. It felt as if knives were stabbing into his gums and even as he pushed his hand over his mouth he tasted blood on his tongue.

"Johnny, what is the matter?" Yuri asked from his usual position at one of the lab benches.

The pain was excruciating, but it only lasted a couple of seconds and Johnny was left breathing hard through his nose and wondering what the hell had happened. It was such a shock to his system that his mind neither caught up with the question nor the obvious explanation for quite a while. Only as the sharp agony slowly became a dull ache did his brain start to consider anything else and it was then, with shaking fingers that he carefully touched his gums. Opening his mouth he slowly ran the tip of his index finger around the source of the pain and then down over the long, dangerous fang that extended from his gum on the left side. With his tongue he traced the matching one on the other side.

It sent a shot of pure fear through him like an icy knife and he just sat there.

"Johnny?" Yuri prompted again.

He looked up at the doctor and slowly took his hand away from his mouth.

"Fangs," he said simply and opened his mouth so Yuri could see.

For a moment Yuri just stood there, clearly unsure what to say; they both knew that this was yet another loss in the battle he was fighting. Then he saw the doctor pull himself together.

"We must test your bite," Yuri said in a very practical tone, "it is unlikely you are contagious yet, but we should be sure."

Johnny said nothing, far too afraid that if he let himself react he would simply lose it.

  


It was becoming harder to think straight; when Johnny looked at Yuri and Zhanna or any of the others that came into his room it was becoming more and more as if all he could see was food. He was hungry, so hungry that sometimes all he wanted was blood and the idea of real food turned his stomach. He could not force his fangs to recede at all and he barely felt human. When Yuri walked in, late on the fourth morning and placed his breakfast on the table, just the smell made him feel sick and he knew he wouldn't be able to eat it. The smell of Yuri was far more enticing and he found himself pulling at the chains holding him to the wall. His instincts were screaming at him that he needed to kill and as alien as they were to his normal mind he was desperate.

"Kill me," he said as he perceived the reality of the situation with crystal clear clarity for just a moment.

He was almost gone; the real him was nearly submerged beneath the vampire taking over his body and he did not want to live with that. Looking up, he met Yuri's eyes and begged with the last of his will.

"If you can ask that you are not completely without hope," Yuri said simply, giving him a quick once over.

"I want to eat you," Johnny said as viciously as he knew how; he wanted Yuri under no illusions.

"You're starving," Yuri said, taking hold of his chin and lifting his head, turning it from one side to the other; "I have been giving you only enough blood to maintain you, of course you want to eat me. The blood increases the rate of transformation, but I think we are beyond stalling for time now."

Johnny snapped at Yuri's hand, he couldn't help himself, but his movements were slow and Yuri easily avoided him.

"I am going to get you some blood," Yuri told him simply; "it will help you control the need. When you are calmer we must talk about one more treatment."

It did not take Yuri long to retrieve what he needed and he came back in carrying a small cup. The smell made Johnny's nostrils twitch and he found himself leaning forward as far as he could at the wonderful scent.

"Johnny, sit back," Yuri told him, holding up the remote to the chains; "this is for you, but you have to control yourself."

It was possibly the hardest thing Johnny had ever done as every fibre of his being demanded that he strive to reach what he wanted, what he needed, but somehow he managed to make his body stop pulling against the restraints. Yuri used the remote to shorten his chains a little so that he could not surge forward again, but did not rewind them the whole way. Then the other man walked towards him and carefully held out the cup with the straw towards him. He had to keep himself under very tight control as he leant forward so that he could actually wrap his lips around the straw and he almost lost it when he sucked and the blood first touched his lips.

The blood tasted like heaven and hell all mixed up in one inseparable whole and he whimpered even as he could not stop drinking. He was not a generally squeamish person, but he hadn't exactly liked the thought of blood before, but now it was like heaven on earth. It made him tingle and it fed parts of his body and mind that were screaming out for sustenance. The whole experience literally took him away from reality for what felt like an eternity.

It took him long seconds to bring himself back under control, but when his mind finally stopped racing, he did feel less homicidal and he actually managed to force the fangs to recede, for a while at least.

"We do not have much time," Yuri told him, pulling up the chair and sitting down next to the bed, "so I will speak plainly."

"I'd rather you did," Johnny replied; one of the things he liked about the Russians was their inclination to plain speaking.

Yuri gave him a small smile for that.

"You are losing this fight," Yuri told him bluntly, "however there is one more thing we can try."

"But," he said, filling in what he knew had to be coming next.

"It is as likely to kill you as help you and if it does not kill you it could cripple you with unending pain," Yuri explained and clearly was not sugar coating any of it.

"If it does will you let Anton put me out of my misery?" Johnny asked simply; it was better to get these things sorted in advance.

"If you wish," Yuri replied with a nod.

Dying was not something Johnny really wanted to do, but given the alternatives he would rather take that route.

"So, what is it?" he asked, refusing to let himself think of ifs and maybes; this was his only chance at life and he was going to take it.

Yuri pulled something out of his pocket and the moment Johnny saw what it was he shied away and his chains clanked as he brought his hands up to try and shield himself and they came up short. The reaction was instinctive and he could feel a kind of heat coming from the cross that Yuri was holding up. It wasn't like a flame, but that was the closest Johnny could come to describing it in normal terms.

"It hurts," he said, feeling his fangs extending again at the discomfort.

He literally could not look at it.

"But it may be your salvation," Yuri told him and moved it closer.

Johnny bit his lip, feeling the heat seeping into his body, making him shake. It was as if it was touching his soul and found it unclean and it made him ache in a way that he could not completely explain.

"The vampire infection is not just a physical one," Yuri told him what he already knew; "it is spiritual as well. Holy symbols fight the destruction and this is the one closest to your soul. If we permanently inscribe it on your body it may reverse the vampire corruption."

The cross was not even touching him and he could feel the effects, he could not imagine what it would feel like in contact with his body. He could not help the gasp of relief when Yuri took the cross away and he looked back at the doctor when it was gone.

"How?" he asked.

He didn't have any fear left; the last few days had been more than he could have borne if he had let himself think about it all. The only way he could face what was happening was head on and without letting himself dwell too deeply.

"Tattoo," Yuri told him, "right over your heart."

"Can you at least make it pretty?" he asked, falling back on humour as his only defence.

Yuri grinned at him for that.

"I will see what I can do," the doctor replied and stood up. "Hang in there, Johnny; most people would be dead by now."

It was a faint comfort, but Johnny took it to heart as Yuri left the room.

  


Half an hour later, Yuri was back and he was not alone. Johnny had never seen the man with Yuri before, but he recognised some of the things the man was carrying.

"Hello again," Yuri said with a smile, "this is Thomas and he assures me pretty is not a problem."

Johnny tried to summon up a smile as well, but was mostly sure he failed. He was so distracted that when Yuri spoke to Thomas in Russian and the man took his things over to the table, he missed the whole conversation.

"We're going to have to sedate you and strap you down," Yuri told him in a much more gentle tone, while Thomas got on with setting things up. "I'm sorry it is unlikely to last for the whole process, but it should help to begin with."

Not trusting his voice, Johnny just nodded and fought down the urge to react when Yuri produced a syringe and popped off the cap on the needle. He barely felt it when the needle went into his arm and he waited for the drug to take effect. It didn't work as well as when he had been human, but he soon felt the world becoming very fuzzy on the edge and he lay down, allowing the medication to take him the rest of way towards a restless sleep.

It was not blissful blackness any more, his metabolism was beyond that and he drifted just below consciousness, not quite aware, but also, not totally detached either. He felt a distant pain, just out of his reach, like an itch he couldn't scratch and he did his best to ignore it for a while, but, bit by bit it dragged him towards it. As he climbed closer to reality, the pain increased, as did his awareness of his surroundings and he could feel he was strapped down almost like he had been the first time he had woken in Yuri's presence. This time, however, he was even more securely held and as he instinctively tried to move he could barely twitch.

He could feel the prick of the needle buzzing over and into his skin, but it was nothing compared to the burning in his chest. The cross on his chest could have been written in fire for all the difference it made and with every movement of Thomas' inker it became worse. He could not yet open his eyes, but it was almost as if he could see it, as if it was etched on his consciousness, faint and incomplete where it was traced onto his skin, but growing stronger, becoming more permanent with every line being inked in. Its power was raging through him, trying to touch every part of him and it was agony.

"Johnny," he heard someone speaking to him in gentle tones, but his mind would not tell him who, "try not to struggle, it is almost done."

He would have laughed if he could have, but even that much control was beyond him. Every cell in his body was being consumed by the inferno, he had to struggle, it was all that was keeping him sane. He knew he could not get away, but he had to try as every second felt like an hour.

"Hold on," the voice told him and he was so far gone he could not tell if it was male or female, "just a few more moments."

He knew it was almost complete, he could feel it and see it in his mind. It was beautiful and ornate and deadly to him with its purity. The power raging inside him felt as if it was destroying his very being, but it was nothing to what ripped through his body as the last stroke completed the holy form. That was when he heard himself scream and when everything disappeared in flames so hot he was sure he would be nothing but ash. At some point after that he mercifully lost sense of what was happening to him.

Johnny did not know what was going on for some time; his mind was sort of aware, but nothing made any sense. What was real and what was just his brain showing him random things he had no idea and he drifted in a world that was neither completely false nor reality. Eventually he must have fallen asleep, because he woke up feeling much saner, cooler and more human, which made him just lie there for a while making sure he wasn't dreaming.

The fire was gone and his body ached, but it was a residual feeling, not something that was constant and perpetual. He opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling until his eyes started working properly. It was such a natural human feeling that he couldn't really believe it; he felt almost normal.

"Welcome back, Johnny," a familiar voice said and he turned to find Zhanna in the chair.

"Hi," he replied and found that his voice croaked and all but gave out.

Surprisingly, she picked up a cup from the bedside table, reached over to him, placing a hand beneath his head, and helped him drink a little of what turned out to be water. Considering the fact that he realised his chains were loose, Zhanna's behaviour seemed on the verge of suicidal.

"Just relax," Zhanna told him with a smile, letting him lie back down as she put the cup back on the table; "you've been asleep for a few hours. Yuri has done all sorts of tests and you're coming out as human."

"Human?" he asked, not quite able to make himself accept what he had just heard.

"Almost," Zhanna replied and when he went to try and sit up, helped him.

He definitely felt human as his body complained about the movement and he was reminded of a time or two after training too hard. He looked down at the cross now tattooed on his chest in red and black; it really was kind of beautiful. It was a standard cross, but with ornate scroll work on and around it; he was impressed by the detail.

"It worked?" he could not simply let himself assume.

Zhanna smiled at him.

"One test left," she said, seemingly totally unworried about the fact that he was quite capable of grabbing her if he so chose; his restraints were that loose.

As he watched, she reached over and picked up another container that was just behind the cup; it looked like a metal flask. Johnny had never seen it before, but when the top was removed the smell hit him like a physical blow. It was blood and he reacted instantly, his feeling of normality vanished and suddenly the room brightened, his senses sharpened and he was breathing hard, trying to resist the urge to reach out. Then he panicked and pushed himself away from Zhanna, looking at the chains as if they were betraying him by being so long even as he felt the room fading back to normal levels.

"Johnny," Zhanna said, recapping the flask, "just breathe, it is okay."

"Not human," he said, shying away as she tried to touch him.

It had been an illusion; it hadn't worked; he was still a monster.

"Johnny," Zhanna repeated in a much sharper tone, making him look up at her; "we expected this, but did it hurt?"

That made him frown; he didn't understand what he was being asked.

"Hurt?" he asked, needing clarification, but then he glanced down again and he realised what Zhanna was asking.

The answer increased his confusion even more.

"I ... I don't think so," he said, putting his hand over the cross.

"I'm going to open the flask again," Zhanna said gently; "we need to be sure."

Johnny nodded; he needed to be sure as well. When the flask was opened the smell hit him again, but this time he was ready and for a few seconds he resisted it. The moment he let go, however, the room changed again and this time he felt his fangs descend as well. This time he didn't panic and Zhanna resealed the flask and with a few deep breaths he felt normal again, only he noticed he was no longer aching or particularly tired.

"No pain," he said, trying very hard to come to terms with this new development. "Why doesn't it hurt?"

"Well what did you feel when you changed," Zhanna asked, "what did you want to do?"

His lack of self control was embarrassing, but Johnny knew what Zhanna was asking.

"I wanted the blood," he said, feeling irrationally guilty, "a lot."

"What about me?" Zhanna asked simply.

Johnny frowned again; his mind was not exactly moving at top speed, what with all the sudden shocks.

"What about you?" he asked, not managing to figure that one out.

"Did you want to bite me?" Zhanna said and seemed to already know the answer.

"No," he said honestly as he thought about it; he had been afraid he might, but it had just been the fear. "I just wanted the blood."

He very distinctly remembered wanting to eat Yuri earlier in the day, so he went over the experience really carefully.

"Vampires enjoy the killing as much as the blood," Zhanna told him with a small smile; "whatever you are you are not a pure vampire, or even what you were this morning."

It was something, but was it enough.

"Is this it?" he asked, unsure how to feel.

"That is what we intend to find out," Zhanna said and patted him on the knee; "do not worry, Johnny, this is good."

He was not so sure, but before he could say or ask anything, his stomach twisted and he felt weak. He doubled over and groaned.

"Here," Zhanna said, unstoppering the flask again and holding it out to him; "the pain is withdrawal. Yuri has been feeding you small amounts of blood to prevent it so far, but after the day you've had you need more."

For a little while Johnny just looked at the flask, making himself not move and not change, but his stomach cramped again and his resolve stuttered. He took the flask and, feeling more than a little self conscious, tipped his head back and took a swig. The taste was all but orgasmic and he wanted to down it all, but he refused to just give in and with a will born of trying to land a quad even when his legs hurt so much he could barely stand he took only what he felt he needed. He handed the flask back to Zhanna before he could change his mind.

"Just one more thing for Yuri," Zhanna said, accepting the flask and closing it before putting it back on the bedside table; "if you would bite this with your fangs out."

The blood made it harder to push the vampire traits away, so Johnny did not need to try and change again. He was used to the sample material Yuri used to test his saliva for vampire venom and he bit into it without arguing. It was strangely comforting to have something familiar within the very bizarre circumstances in which he found himself, even if that was giving a sample.

"Johnny," Zhanna said quietly and placed a hand over his, "you are doing well."

It was only then he realised he had been sitting there starring at his own bite marks for some time.

"I want to go home," was all he could find to say and Zhanna just smiled at him sadly.

  


  


  


"Fuck!" he heard someone say outside his door in the other room.

It was very loud, so it was easy to hear and Johnny had discovered since his change that he could enhance his senses without letting the other vampire traits fully out. So far over the day and a half since the tattoo on his chest had been completed nothing else had changed. He felt human unless he consciously chose otherwise, something that Yuri was testing with glee.

"Anton, do you mind," Yuri replied, "I am trying to work."

"Well work this," Anton said and sounded more than a little upset.

There was the sound of paper hitting a desk.

"Do you realise who that is in there?" Anton asked, clearly not very happy. "This could expose us."

"Calm down, Anton," Johnny's ears picked up as he heard Zhanna, "now tell us what is the matter."

"Your lost cause, Zhanna," Anton said pointedly; "he's a fucking figure skater and he has been all over the news; the police are scouring the city for him. He's the best friend of our president's pet figure skater and national hero."

Anton did not sound impressed with figure skating in general, but all Johnny could think of was that people were looking for him. At least it made him harder to kill. He had talked with Zhanna and Yuri extensively over his time in the base and he had revealed small details, but he had deliberately chosen not to reveal that he was not quite an average citizen. He sat forward, chains jingling as he did so and listened. Someone was rustling paper.

"Johnny Weir, two time Olympian," it seemed to be Zhanna who was reading and after that she did it silently.

Johnny could only wonder what she was thinking.

"This changes nothing," she said firmly after a few moments, "he still needs our help."

"Read the end, Zhanna," Anton said coldly; "they found his bag; someone tried to sell it, that's why it is front page news. How long before they find the alley and have their forensic people all over it?"

There was more paper rustling.

"Then we will just have to make sure there is nothing for them to find," Zhanna said in a very resolute tone.

"He knew," Anton said and this time he sounded angry; "he knew they'd be looking for him and he didn't warn us."

Johnny pulled his legs up and held on to them, after all it was true, or at least he had hoped and Anton's anger unsettled him. He did not want Zhanna and Yuri to side with the man on this.

"Would you have done any different?" was the simple response Zhanna gave.

Silence was the only answer to that.

"Talk to Michal," Zhanna said eventually, "ask him to send someone out to make sure out tracks our completely covered, then we can worry about the other vampires out there like we're supposed to."

"It's the one in there I'm worried about," Anton replied and Johnny heard Zhanna sigh.

Anton was never going to be on his side.

"Johnny is not a vampire," Zhanna said and it sounded as if she thought that was an end to the matter.

Johnny doubted very much it would be.

"He has fangs, Zhanna," was Anton's next game play and proved Johnny right; "he's as good as turned."

"If that were true he'd be in severe pain," Zhanna replied vehemently; "the cross on his chest would see to that. Half the time he is completely human."

"Romantic foolishness," Anton said in a very harsh tone. "Yuri, tell her."

Johnny held his breath waiting for what was to come next; these people's opinions held his life in the balance.

"His physiology seems to have two forms; almost completely human and almost completely vampire," Yuri said, as if agreeing with Anton, "and he can change from one to the other at will. From what I can tell he does need blood to survive, but he is also still capable of ingesting normal food. He shows many of the physical signs of vampirism, but none of the sociopathic tendencies that go with them and when I tested his bite he was not infectious. I honestly can't tell you if this is some half state just waiting for the right stimulus or if he will remain this way indefinitely. All I do know is that I have never seen it before."

It sounded so up in the air, so uncertain and Johnny knew he could not live like that. If they thought he was a danger he was well aware that the hunters would not let him go and he was not foolish enough to think they weren't good at covering their tracks. It dawned on him then that if he wanted to see daylight again he was going to have to get away by himself.

  


Being sneaky was not something Johnny usually chose to do, but that didn't mean he did not have the right instincts. He wanted out and so he formed what passed as a plan, although barely.

"You are looking brighter," Zhanna said as she walked into the room and Johnny gave her a smile.

"I'm feeling better," he said, sitting cross legged on his bed, "your cooking is helping."

That earned him a big grin which made him feel more than a little guilty about what he was about to do, but he had no choice.

"I can get you some breakfast if you like," Zhanna offered and went to turn around.

"Maybe in a minute," he said and made her pause, "I was wondering if you could help me first."

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

"I'd like to learn about myself," he said quickly, hoping that she would believe him, "and that includes the vampire part. Can I borrow the mirror again, so I can see what I look like?"

He gave her a nervous smile that he hoped made it look as if he was worried about what he might see, but needed to see it anyway. Since it wasn't far from the truth, he didn't have to act too much. It must have worked as well, because Zhanna gave him a fond smile and nodded.

"I'll get it," she told him and then slipped back out of the room again.

She was back in only a few seconds and handed him the mirror, which he took and immediately looked into. He looked completely human again now, if a little paler, but it wasn't his human face that was going to be useful in this. Touching the vampire part of himself scared the hell out of him, but he didn't have any choice and, taking a deep breath, he found the instincts and needs inside of himself and let them rise to the surface.

What he saw was kind of compelling and he almost forgot why he was doing what he was doing. His skin was so pale it almost glowed and his eyes literally glowed an unearthly green, with just a hint of red at the edges. His lips were also very red, as if he was wearing lipstick and when he opened his mouth his fangs looked vicious and dangerous. He knew without a doubt he was a very beautiful killing machine in this form, but he had made up his mind and he was not turning away from it now.

He had spoken to Yuri about vampire powers several times and he knew that most vampires were capable of mesmerising their victims. When he had given Yuri a detailed description of how he had been lured away from the main streets, Yuri had explained that usually victims never really knew what hit them with old vampires. Johnny just hoped he had enough instincts and power to do what he was planning.

Looking up, he fixed Zhanna with his eyes and snared her almost instantly; he could feel it. She had not been ready for him and he felt her mind in a vague, abstract way as her stare turned glassy.

"Zhanna," he said, voice strangely deep and resonant, "let me out of the chains."

He was not going for anything clever, since he had neither the experience nor the skill, he just wanted the chains off. From there he planned to deal with everything else himself. At the instruction he felt Zhanna's mind try and fight back, but he increased his concentration. He really had no idea what he was doing, but his instincts seemed to know how it was done. Zhanna didn't even blink, she just turned and walked to the lab bench, then she pulled open a draw and withdrew a set of keys.

She looked as if she was sleep walking when she came over to him. He did not like it, but he did not let up the pressure and he held out his wrists so Zhanna could unlock them for him. With his hands free he took the key and opened the cuffs on his ankles and felt around to feel for the lock on the collar. It was difficult to do since he couldn't see it, but he did not want to force Zhanna to do anything else. Eventually he managed it and then he was free. He felt his excitement spike as soon as the chains were gone and it was hard to stay calm.

Instinct told him to bite Zhanna and increase his strength, but he was stronger than his instincts and, as soon as he was free, he fled. He was up and past Zhanna before she could so much as say anything, let alone stop him and then he was out the door. He slammed it and flicked the bolt across before trying to get his bearings. Given that he had been offered breakfast he knew it was sometime in the morning, but he had no idea of what time it was. Given that and he'd never been outside the room before, he had no idea how many people there might be between him and an exit, but he knew he had to hurry.

The area outside his room was a kitchenette almost, with cupboards and a counter along one side along with a sink, a table and chairs and there were two doors other than the one he had come through. There was also a monitor that was connected to the camera inside the other room and he could see Zhanna trying to clear her head. Following instinct, he went for the door beside the cupboards and he was out into a corridor. The floor was laminate tiles of some description and was cold under his feet as he stood there looking one way and then the other. There was the hint of sunlight in one direction and it was all he had to go on, so he turned that way, which was when the alarm sounded.

It should have been obvious there would be a warning system of some kind, but for some reason he hadn't expected it and it was loud. He ran for what he hoped was the way out as fast as he could and he did not look back as he heard shouting behind him. Running, he rounded a corner in the corridor and saw what looked like an outside door, but it also looked very locked. It had that look of a door that was not often used and he realised there was little hope it would open. There was the sound of running feet behind him and he made a split second decision, calling the vampire nature he was so very afraid of to the surface and then charging for his freedom.

The door kind of just disintegrated under the force of his assault and then he was outside in an alley. As soon as the sun hit him he felt weaker and the signs of his vampire half melted away almost instantly. He stopped more in shock than anything else and looked back, which was when a bullet whizzed past his ear and his system flooded with adrenalin. His flight response kicked in full gear and he ran towards the entrance to the alley, heedless of what was below his feet.

Someone was yelling at him, but he did not stop to listen and he barely heard the second shot before he felt himself pitching forward. It was only as he hit the ground he felt the heat of pain in his side, but he refused to take any notice of it. If he stayed down he knew he would be dragged back to that room, or worse, killed and he had tasted freedom. Forcing himself to his feet, he began to run again and he was not going to stop unless someone brought him down.

He didn't know where he was going or what he was doing, but he followed what seemed to be a well developed survival instinct and just kept going. He ran and then hid and then ran and then hid and he completely lost track as the bullet wound in his side slowly leaked blood.

Johnny had no idea where he was, but he knew a police station when he saw one, even when it was Russian, and he limped towards it. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be safe, he wanted the nightmare to be over and those were the only thoughts that kept him going. His side hurt and he could feel the dampness on the material of the jacket he had stolen, not that he really remembered where he had taken it from. The sun was hurting his eyes and the combination of that and his injury was making him dizzy, but he had to make it to safety.

Swaying from side to side he probably looked drunk and people were avoiding him, but he made it up the steps of the station without falling on his face. The fact that he was barefoot in only his jeans, an open shirt and an ill-fitting jacket probably made him look like a homeless drop out, but no one tried to stop him as he staggered towards the main desk.

"Hello," he said when the severe looking woman behind the desk looked up.

The relief at having made if kind of cut off the adrenaline rush he had been running on and he felt himself beginning to sag.

"Please help me," he said as the world span in a very bad way; "I'm Johnny Weir."

Then he collapsed and the hard tiled floor came up to meet him as he summarily passed out.


	2. Losing Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

**Title:** After Night Comes Dawn 2 of 5  
 **Author:** [](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**beren_writes**](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** Figure Skating RPS  
 **Pairing:** J Weir/S Lambiel, JW/E Lysacek, JW/SL/EL  
 **Rating:** NC17/18  
 **Warnings:** threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language  
 **Summary:** AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.  


**Artist:** [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) [Art only post](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/341488.html?mode=reply).

 **Mixer** [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/) [Mix link](http://solookup.livejournal.com/1085785.html)

**Chapter 2 Finding the Way**

A slow, regular beeping was the first thing that made it into his awareness as the world gradually came back. This time when he opened his eyes he was not in a tiled white room; the room was still white, but it was a sunny cheerful room that seemed to be full of flowers. He was half propped up on what seemed to be a mountain of pillows and there was an IV in his arm and it seemed to be a perfectly normal hospital room.

"Johnny," said a very familiar voice and he turned his head to see his mother sitting right next to him.

It was something he had been dreaming of ever since the nightmare began and for a moment he didn't believe it was real.

"Mama?" he said very quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

That was it for his mom it seemed, she instantly stood up and leant over him, kissing him on the forehead and smoothing his hair from his face as if making sure he was real.

"Oh, my sweet baby," his mom cooed over him, "I was so scared I was never going to see you again."

Johnny had been scared of the same thing, so very, very scared and he could barely make himself react as if his mom was really there. How Patti had got to Russia and where exactly he was were questions that crowded into his head, but all he needed was right there in front of him. He tried to reach back, at which point his side hurt and he remembered very distinctly why he was in the hospital in the first place.

"Now just lie still," his mom told him and he could tell she was on the verge of tears, which didn't help his own equilibrium, "Evgeni told me that the doctor said you're going to be sore for a while, but there's no permanent damage."

Patti sat back down again while slipping her hand into his, but he still didn't know what to say. His brain simply didn't seem to be working right and coherent thought was evading him.

"I have something for you," his mom said, clearly having a similar problem and then she dived into her handbag.

What she pulled out was very familiar and Patti slipped it into his hand and patted his fingers: it was his chain with all his charms. It had fallen off some time during the attack and he never thought he'd see it again.

"They found," Patti said haltingly, "they found it ..."

The raw emotion was right there on his mom's face and he couldn't hold his feelings in anymore. He burst into tears as the tension he had been unable to express for days suddenly exploded within him and then his mom was cradling him in her arms and she was crying as well and it was all one big mess. He didn't care that his side hurt or that the light in the room was too bright or that he had no idea how he had come to be where he was, all that mattered was the comfort of Patti's arms as they held each other close.

He couldn't bring himself under control for a long time as all the fear and pain came pouring out of him. With Yuri and Zhanna he had had to be brave and strong, with his mom he could let it all go and Patti held him until he finally stopped shaking. Then she helped him sit back against his pillows, wiped his face for him and gave him a little drink of water. He felt as if he was about five again when his mom would look after his scuffed knees and make it all better with a kiss and a hug.

"You're safe now, Sweetheart," Patti told him as he played with the chain now entwined around his fingers, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

And the funny thing was he knew it was true. Not that she knew what she was up against, but Johnny was sure if a vampire walked through the door that very minute, his mom would take it on as if it was nothing more than a rude waiter in a restaurant.

"Thank you," he said, his voice sounding far quieter than he had thought and hoarse from all the crying.

"It's in the job description," Patti said and gave him a small smile, covering her hand with his own again.

They stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other and Johnny could see the question in his mom's eyes.

"Do you feel ready to talk about it?" Patti eventually asked, but very gently, as if ready to back off instantly if need be.

He didn't really feel ready for anything, but it didn't seem fair to just say no. It wasn't as if he could just blurt it all out, but he had to say something.

"I got lost," he said after taking a very deep breath and he looked down at his fingers to keep himself focused; "I don't know how, I was only going to the address Tara gave me. I ended up in the alley, so I turned round and there was this man."

The memory of the vampire Peter filled his mind and he had to stop for a moment.

"I tried to get past him," he said, using another deep breath to brace himself, "but he grabbed me."

Patti's fingers tightened on his.

"I felt something stab into my neck," he continued, which was at least true, but he couldn't just tell the truth.

In that moment he realised that he was afraid what would happen and who might be listening and he took the only decision he could.

"That's the last thing I remember," he said, not looking up, because he knew his mom could spot him lying a mile away. "I don't know what happened after that. I kind of remember the police station, but I don't know how I got there."

When he dared glance up, he was not sure if Patti's expression was relieved or horrified.

"You don't remember anything at all?" she asked gently.

He just shook his head.

"How long was I gone?" he asked, he was a little shaky on how much time had actually passed, so it wasn't a total bluff.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Patti said and Johnny knew that voice all too well, it was his mom's I'm-going-protect-you-now-whether-you-like-it-or-not voice, "don't worry about that. All that matters is you're safe now. You just need to worry about getting better."

Since it was easier than actually talking about it, he did not protest, which in retrospect probably wasn't a good thing, because his mother frowned when he just accepted it.

"So," he said, trying to cover the awkwardness, "how did you get here? Last time I called you were definitely at home."

That seemed to appease Patti a little at least and she gave him a rather strained smile.

"Evgeni called me as soon as they realised you were missing," Patti told him, finally looking as if she might be relaxing a little bit; "he's been amazing. When I said I was coming over he told me not to worry about booking anything and had the ticket sent to the house, and he insisted on putting me in a very nice hotel. He and Stéphane have been making sure I don't do anything silly like running off into Moscow to try and find you myself."

"Stéphane?" Johnny found himself asking; that he had not been expecting.

"He's been wonderful as well," his mom explained and there was that kind of faraway, happy look in her eye that seemed to happen to people who had been in Stéphane's company too long. "While Evgeni has been running around demanding people do something, Stéphane has been keeping me sane. He really is a very charming young man and he's been very worried about you."

That sounded like Stéphane all over, but Kings On Ice was still supposed to be going on and both Evgeni and Stéphane were supposed to have been skating, so he had no idea what could be going on there.

"He's been waiting with me since they brought you in," Patti revealed and Johnny had to stop himself looking around the room to see if there was a stealth space zebra hidden anywhere. "When they brought you to the room, though, they would only let one of us sit with you."

Johnny nodded; that sounded like most hospitals he had ever been in. What was also the same was the awful hospital gown. The one he was wearing was blue with white flowers and was possibly the most hideous and uncomfortable thing known to man. He pulled at it absently and then heard his mom gasp as he revealed the top of the cross. It was then he realised he wasn't supposed to remember it and the gasp was likely for him, not because Patti was shocked.

"Darling," Patti said, reaching out to him, but he pulled the gown away from his chest anyway and looked down as if he did not know what he would see.

"There's a cross on my chest," he said as if it was a shock.

"Johnny," his mom said and rubbed his arm, "try not to worry; it's just an ordinary tattoo."

He looked up at her and did his best to look confused.

"The police think whoever took you did it," Patti told him gently, "but they don't know why. When we get home we can get it removed, if you want?"

If there was one thing Johnny knew it was that the cross was never coming off, but he just sat there for a bit and pretended to think about it. He pulled the gown away again and looked down and then set his features in a determined expression he knew his mom would recognise.

"At least it's pretty," he said and gave her a small smile.

That, he knew, would put her off at least until they got home and had a chance to talk properly. He could not keep this from his mom for long, but he really didn't want to deal with it while in Russia, besides which, Patti was an even worse liar than he was. He would have said more, but he made the mistake of moving again and managed to catch his side completely wrong, which made him gasp in pain. At that point all control was wrested from him as Patti decided it was time to let the doctor know he was awake and everything occurred that went with that. The two good things that resulted, since he hated being poked and prodded, was that a nice nurse gave him something for the pain he had managed to find and Stéphane somehow made it into the room.

With a very nice drug in his system he felt much better and managed a real beaming smile for his Swiss friend. He managed one for Evgeni when he turned up as well, but he honestly couldn't have told anyone what they talked about. All he really remembered was it had to do with skating, because everyone was definitely avoiding the subject of his kidnapping. There was also food at some point, not bad food at that and then he managed to drift off to sleep. It was more than a little surreal, but much better than having to answer awkward questions.

  


"I don't remember," Johnny said for the fourth time in ten minutes, but the police officer was still looking at him as if he didn't believe him.

"You can tell us nothing?" the detective asked again.

"Look," he said, finally losing his temper; "a man attacked me in the alley, that's the last thing I remember until I found myself staggering down the road. I do not remember anything else, it's all a blank."

In his anger he half sat up and his side complained and he found himself sitting back with a gasp. It was his second day in the hospital and the previous day he'd managed to avoid a proper chat with the police thanks to the drugs the doctor had him on. However, the officer had been there first thing that morning after breakfast and he'd been talking to the man ever since. Yana had taken Patti out to buy some things, because Johnny knew that, at the moment, having his mom in the room when a police officer was asking him questions would not have been a sensible idea. Patti was in a very, very protective mood.

"This interview is over," Evgeni said very efficiently and the detective looked as if he was going to argue, but one look from the Russian skater had the man standing up.

Evgeni really did know the right people to get everything sorted smoothly and Johnny was incredibly glad, but it didn't make him feel much better. He was lying to everyone and it was driving him crazy; no matter what the press tried to say about him, he was a very bad liar.

"You need to relax, Johnny," Stéphane said, fussing over him as usual as the police officer left the room; "the pain will lessen."

When his mom wasn't there, Stéphane seemed to have appointed himself a similar role.

"I can't," he said, feeling the tension through every muscle.

Stéphane looked distressed on his behalf; it sliced through his heart.

"I will get the nurse," Stéphane said resolutely and went to stand up, but Johnny put his hand out to stop him.

"It won't help," he said simply; the pain in his side was not really his problem.

Evgeni was hovering by the door looking worried.

"If you are in pain," his friend said, "the staff can give you something.

That actually made Johnny laugh; there was no way anyone in the hospital could help him.

"No they can't," he said, feeling like he was about to break.

"Johnny," Stéphane said, touching his arm gently, "why are you torturing yourself."

It was too much; he just couldn't do it.

"Because I'm lying," he said bitterly, "because I've been lying since the moment I woke up."

That made both the other skaters look at each other and Stéphane finally looked back at him with those beautiful, sensual eyes.

"Why, Johnny?" his friend asked ever so gently.

It was a question and a half and Johnny didn't know if he wanted to answer it, but he had started now, he could not go back.

"Because if I tell the truth they'll either lock me up for being insane," he said quietly, "or for being a monster."

He knew it would not explain anything, but the words were stuck inside, all he could do was look at Stéphane. Taking a breath, he let the truth rise to the surface; he let what was inside out and the room became uncomfortably bright in his vision.

"Am I a monster?" he asked, not knowing the answer.

"Oh my god," he heard from Evgeni and Stéphane just stared at him.

He had seen what he was; he knew what he had to look like, eyes glowing from within, skin ghostly pale and lips too red to be natural. If he opened his mouth Stéphane would be able to see his fangs, but he just lay there.

"I was attacked in that alley," he said, needing to explain even if it made no difference; "but he wasn't a man. He bit me and then the other people came, hunters; they killed him and took me. They tried everything they could to save me, but inch by inch I kept changing; that's when they did this," he pulled down his top so the edge of the cross was visible. "It didn't completely work though; I'm stuck somewhere in between. They, the hunters, didn't know what to do with me; they kept me locked up, so I escaped. That's when I was shot."

He stared at the ceiling not knowing what else to say as he let himself fade back to being human. It was possible he had just alienated the two people who were helping him the most aside from his mom.

"You are a vampire," Stéphane said quietly, and didn't sound as if he was about to freak out, which was one plus.

"Kind of," he replied quietly, not looking over.

Evgeni swore colourfully, which Johnny was well aware was much better than his Russian friend going quiet.

"Do vampires had to worry about bullets?" Stéphane asked next and sounded genuinely confused, so much so that Johnny finally looked back at his friend.

It was typical of Stéphane to be looking at the details and not the big picture.

"Not usually," he said, hoping it helped underline the difference between himself and the creature that had attacked him, "but like this I'm human. I'm only," he paused, almost unable to say it, "not," was the word he settled on, "when I look different. I..."

He touched his side, wondering how to explain further, at which point he realised it didn't hurt. That made him look down and then twist to see if he was imagining it, but there wasn't even a twinge.

"Oh," he said as it began to dawn on him what had to have happened.

He had noticed that he often felt stronger after letting his vampire nature out the couple of times Yuri had asked to test it, but it had not registered what that might mean.

"Johnny, what is the matter?" Stéphane asked and when he looked round, Egveni was watching him worriedly as well.

"I think," he said, more than a little surprised, "I healed. It must have been ... when ... just now ... it doesn't hurt anymore."

He was honestly shocked; he hadn't really expected that, although it was undeniably obvious when he thought about it. His shock took away the anxiety and fear for a little while and he just stared at his friends, not really knowing what to say. It was one of those sink or swim moments and he could feel them all standing on a knife edge where the situation could go either way.

"Do you need blood?" was the question from Evgeni asked and broke the rather awkward silence.

"Yes," he said, since that was one fact he knew without a doubt, "just a little."

"Do you need an open vein?" his Russian friend was nothing if not direct.

This time he shook his head.

"A cup is fine," he replied, trying to treat the conversation like one about skate guards or something similar.

It worked of a fashion.

"I will get you some," Evgeni said, clearly using the need to help to cope with this new revelation, "and then I will see about getting you out of here. I do not think you wish to have this condition known."

Johnny could only agree; the last thing he wanted was for more people to find out.

"Thank you, Zhenya," he said as Evgeni walked resolutely towards the door.

His friend just gave him a nod; it seemed they were okay for now. That just left Stéphane who was sitting there looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" he asked, possibly a little defensively.

Then, before he could even react he found himself being hugged; definitely not what he had expected.

"You have such bravery," Stéphane told him, embracing him as if he might never let go, "I am once again amazed."

Johnny didn't really think he was being brave, in fact he felt more than a little out of control and he had just managed to dump the whole mess onto his friends as well. He did, however, manage to give a bit of a hug back.

"Now," Stéphane said, when they finally parted, "I wish to understand so that I may be of assistance. Please tell me whatever you wish while we wait for your mother to return."

It was kind of pushy and all kinds of sweet and so terribly Stéphane that Johnny found himself starting to talk, and once he'd started he couldn't stop. He continued even when Evgeni returned and handed him a small cup with a very familiar liquid in it.

  


All Johnny wanted to do was go home. He loved Russia, he really did, but he needed familiar surroundings and a place where he could forget the fact he was not quite human for a while. At least he was out of the hospital, which was one thing to be thankful for, but he really didn't want to be in a hotel. It was a very nice hotel; Evgeni had seen to that, but it was definitely not home. However, it did have a very nice shower, which Johnny had spent a good half an hour under, just enjoying the hot water. Stéphane and his mom were in the main room ordering them some food and Johnny hoped that it would be about time to eat once he was finished.

Looking at himself in the mirror he decided his hair needed cutting; it was beginning to look messy around the edges. The natural wave was making it curl at the edges where it was drying. The hotel robe was fluffy and comfortable and he considered putting on some clothes, but then decided that could wait. When he opened the door he wished he hadn't because the first thing he saw was a gun and it was pointed directly at Stéphane and his mom was sitting next to Stéphane on the couch. He froze as he recognised Anton.

He had to fight with himself not to attack; his instincts were screaming to do something about the threat and his vampire side didn't really understand vulnerability.

"Please don't hurt them," he said in very careful Russian.

He flicked his eyes around the room; it was the whole team from the alley and all of them were holding guns, including Zhanna. The woman did not appear overly happy with him, but then he had taken advantage of her at their last encounter.

"You try anything he dies first, she dies second," was the simple response from Anton.

"They have nothing to do with this," he said, barely daring to breathe let alone move.

The hunters were dangerous people, he knew that, he had lived with them for days and he was well aware that they did what they had to. He was not about to let them do anything to Patti or Stéphane.

"We're not here to hurt anyone," Michal said simply, "we're here to make sure everyone stays safe."

There was a chinking sound and Johnny felt his blood running cold as he saw the chains in Zhanna's hands.

"No," he said and finally stood up straight.

"We are taking you back," Michal said as if it was nothing bad.

"I will not live in a cage," he said with a shake of his head; "I will not go back."

He looked Michal in the eyes.

"If you want to treat me like an animal you can put me down like one right now," he said, speaking the words slowly and clearly.

He did not want there to be any misunderstanding; he was never, ever being caged like that again, he couldn't stand it and he had to make them realise that. Maybe they did not understand what he was, but he was not going to be a specimen in a glass jar.

"Put on the restraints," Anton said and waved his gun at Stéphane and Patti in threat.

When the gun went near his mother, Johnny lost the control he had. Stéphane being threatened he could cope with; Stéphane knew that there was more to this than simply gangsters, but his mom was just terrified and the threat was too much. He let the vampire out, fearing harm to his mother more than her seeing what he really was, and he moved, putting himself between Anton and Patti. The gun went off as Anton panicked and he felt the bullet hit him in the upper chest, but he did not go down.

"Anton, no!" Michal's voice cut through the confusion and Anton backed off.

"Johnny," he heard his mom say and when her hand touched his back the pain finally made it into his head and he slowly fell. "Oh my god, Johnny," was his mother's response to that.

"Mama, it's okay," he said, or tried to, and he saw Zhanna's eyes open in shock.

It seemed that the hunters did not know that Patti was his mom. He would have kept his head down, eyes out of sight until the wound healed, but he dared not let the hunters out of his sight. With his vampire nature in the forefront he could feel the wound healing, even though his hand was covered in blood where he was gripping his chest, and he could not return to normal until it was no longer dangerous. He heard his mother gasp as she knelt beside him on the floor and he had to look at her.

"Oh, Johnny," his mom said, reaching out to touch the side of his face, "what happened?"

There was a very rapid conversation going on in Russian, but Johnny kept his attention on his mother.

"You wouldn't believe it, Mama," he said quietly; "I'm not sure I do."

Patti glared at the hunters.

"What did you do to my son?" she demanded and Johnny was sure that Michal and Zhanna understood even if the other two didn't.

"They didn't do it, Mama," Johnny said, placing a hand on his mother's arm; "they saved me, but they think I am dangerous."

His mother's face took on an expression he recognised all too well; there had been several people over his career who had been on the receiving end of that face. When she stood up and stepped around him he tried to reach out, but the bullet hole was still not completely healed and he failed to move fast enough.

"If you want my son you will go through me," Patti said, standing resolutely in front of him; "I've never met a gentler soul."

"Mrs Weir," Michal said, but Johnny could already tell the man was in for a tongue lashing at the least, "your son is infected by a vampire; the effects for the future are unknown."

It wasn't the greatest English, but Johnny didn't think that would make any difference to his mom.

"You're waving guns around," Patti said, placing her hands on her hips in a very familiar gesture, "you are the dangerous ones."

"Look at him," that was Anton, but it was in Russian so Johnny knew his mom wouldn't understand it.

"I am not a monster," he growled in Russian through gritted teeth, "I'm a human being."

The wound in his chest hurt and he could not let the vampire go, but he did not care how ridiculous his statement might sound; it was true.

"You are a vampire," Anton spat back.

"No I'm not," he replied, willing the hole the bullet had made to close.

"There is no guarantee you will not become one of them," Michal said in what Johnny thought was supposed to be a reasonable tone.

"There's no guarantee you won't become a monster either," he replied and slowly forced himself to his feet.

It only hurt a little and Patti was still resolutely standing in front of him.

"You have to come with us," Zhanna said as if it was the only logical conclusion.

"I am not coming with you," he snapped in English, because it annoyed him.

How these people did not understand he had no idea; he could not live like that.

"I will not be a prisoner," he said, calming himself down, "I will not live like that."

Anton looked as if he was going to start waving his gun around again.

"If you point that at my mother I will not be responsible for my actions," he said, switching back to Russian, and he meant it; his instincts were all over the place.

"And you say you are not dangerous," was Anton's not overly unexpected response.

"I never said that," he replied, since he was under no illusions that he was the same old Johnny, "but so are you and you have a gun."

He did not like Anton and he flicked his attention back to Michal.

"I will not go with you," he said simply, going back to English so his mom could understand, "so you have two choices, you can leave, or you can kill me now and deal with all the press and publicity that will bring. Trust me, it will not be quiet, at the moment I'm front page news."

It was the only card he had; the hunters had them out numbered and out gunned and about the only thing he had going for him was the fact he would be missed.

"You must understand," Zhanna said, appealing to him, "you could be a danger to those you love."

Patti took his hand and held on.

"Johnny is no danger to anyone," his mom said firmly.

"Yuri," Zhanna continued.

"Yuri doesn't have a clue," he interrupted before the woman could try and guilt him into anything. "I heard what he said about me. He has no more idea what I am than I do. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want my life back."

His chest was barely aching anymore, so he slowly let the vampire fade from his body. Unfortunately he hadn't figured in the stress on his human side and the moment he let the powerful night creature retreat he wobbled precariously. Before he really knew what was going on, Stéphane was on one side of him and Patti was on the other holding him up.

"Crap," he said very pointedly, wanting to swear in a more meaningful manner, but curbing his tongue because his mother was there.

It only took a moment for his head to clear and his equilibrium to return, but the last thing he had wanted to do was show weakness. Perversely, when he looked back at Michal the man's expression had changed, but not for the worse. Finally the lead hunter seemed to be looking at him as a person rather than a problem.

"You will not reconsider?" Michal asked, finally putting his gun back in its holster.

"You and I both know this could be indefinite," Johnny replied simply; "would you agree to be locked up, maybe forever?"

"You cannot be thinking ..." Anton began almost instantly.

"Enough," was what Michal said loudly and firmly, "this discussion is over. Put your weapons away."

Kirill and Zhanna did as they were told almost instantly, but Anton took a while and only complied when Michal glared at him.

"Yuri said you wouldn't come," Zhanna said and her eyes held the hints of betrayal.

They had almost been friends, at least Johnny liked to think that, but he had shattered that by what he had done. He was sorry for that, but there had been no other way.

"Yuri is a very knowledgeable man," he replied, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, but I had to run."

For once he was glad Patti wouldn't be understanding a word of what was going on. When Zhanna looked surprised at the apology he realised quite how much he had damaged their relationship. When the shock cleared from her expression, however, there was more understanding there.

"You could have hurt me," she replied after a moment, which he suspected was the closest he would get to an acceptance of his apology.

"I'm not made that way," he said, since he didn't want to leave it hanging.

"Yes you are," Anton said, having to stick his nose in.

"I said enough," Michal said before the conversation could descend any further, "we're leaving."

When Michal walked up to him, Johnny was not sure how to react and he really didn't expect the man to pass him a small piece of paper.

"Yuri asked me to give this to you," Michal told him as he took the folded note. "I hope for both out sakes we never have to meet again."

Johnny just nodded, he was totally onboard with that sentiment. He stood there watching as the hunters left, not really believing it was happening until the door clicked shut and then he opened the note.

> Johnny,

> I tried to persuade my colleagues that coming after you was folly and, since you are reading my note, I can only assume they have discovered the truth of this. I hope you are feeling better. From my calculations you will require a quarter of a pint of blood a week to make sure your metabolism remains stable and make sure you up your normal calorie intake; you need it now. Below is my email address, I would be most grateful if we could correspond from time to time. You are a unique individual and your condition may be of help in treating others in the future. Do not worry about it for a while, however, go home and take time to recover.

> Your friend,  
>  Yuri

He laughed, a somewhat hysterical sound, at Yuri's calm, Russian practicality and then he found himself being gently sat on the couch. Patti was moving aside the hotel robe and looking for the wound in his chest that, of course, wasn't there anymore, but he didn't have the heart to stop her.

"It's healed, Mama," he said quietly as she wiped the blood away with some tissues from the table.

There was blood all over the robe and he could see some on the carpet, but he knew for a fact his body no longer even had a trace of the wound. It was the same with bullet tract that had been in his side; there was a small scar there, because it had started healing naturally, but under the dressing he had been pretending not to get wet, there was nothing else. He pulled off the fake bandage he had replaced after his shower since it was now irrelevant.

"I knew the moment you were conceived," Patti said, looking in his eyes, "that you were never destined for a normal life. I felt it with every fibre of my being. I made a deal with God that day: as long as he never took you away from me I would love you with all of my heart forever. You've always made that so easy, Johnny, and I don't think anything will ever change that."

The last lingering thread of fear in his heart snapped as he heard that and, as his mom embraced him hard enough to almost break his ribs, he all but sagged in relief. The worst was finally over.

  


Johnny was well aware his mom did not want him to leave her sight, but her room was only next door and she looked like she needed sleep. It took him half an hour after they had finished dinner to convince her that sleeping would be a good thing, but eventually he managed to gently make her go to bed, at which point he collapsed on the couch in his room and just stared at the ceiling for a while.

"You should sleep as well," Stéphane said after a little while and Johnny finally looked up and realised his friend was still standing there.

In his need to see to his mom he'd almost forgotten Stéphane hadn't gone back to his room.

"Yeah," he agreed, but he had a nagging suspicion he wouldn't be able to sleep.

He was tired, especially after the events of the evening, but his mind felt annoyingly awake. He climbed to his feet and padded over to Stéphane.

"Sorry about almost getting you killed," he said, giving his friend a hug.

He felt guilty about forgetting about Stéphane as well, after all they had all been involved in the evening's disaster.

"Life is more exciting around you," Stéphane told him with a small smile.

It was not one of Stéphane's devastating smiles that made people hold their breath and swoon at his feet, Johnny had felt the power of those before, but it was still delightful and Johnny felt himself overcome with the desire to kiss the lips that made it. Before his mind caught up with his impulses, he found himself doing just that. His brain kicked in a few seconds later and he drew back, startled.

"Sorry," he apologised immediately at Stéphane's rather shocked expression.

Contrary to popular opinion in some circles, they had never been anything but friends.

"Do not apologise, Mon Ami," Stéphane said immediately, ever the gentleman, "it was a nice kiss, but forgive me, I did not realise you felt this way about me."

"Um ... I ..," Johnny said, trying to explain himself and failing; he'd been sitting on that particular desire for some years now, "fuck," just about summed up his mental state.

Stéphane gave him a very innocent look.

"You appear confused, Mon Ami," Stéphane said with a small smile, "perhaps you expected me to be someone else?"

"No," Johnny said instantly and realised he had been goaded into admitting the truth by Swiss politeness.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to work out what was going through his head.

"I've been a little bit in love with you for years," he finally decided that admitting the truth was the only way to go. "I thought I'd buried it."

"Ah," Stéphane said as if he understood completely, "but your new condition has brought such things to the surface, n'est ce pas?"

It was a very succinct explanation of what was going on, so Johnny just nodded. He definitely did not want to put Stéphane in an awkward situation. The last thing he wanted was to frighten his friend away with unwanted advances, although he had noticed in the past that Stéphane was very hard to spook, which he hoped would help.

"Then, Mon Ami," Stéphane told him with a smile, "I must confess that I too have admired you from afar. I find that almost losing you has sharpened those feelings somewhat and I have, for some days, been considering your virtue."

It took him a few moments to process the flowery language, but Johnny got there in a couple of seconds. In that instant he also realised why his brain was awake and the signals it sent south began to wake his body up as well.

"Does that mean you wouldn't object to fucking me through the mattress at some point in the near future?" he asked as he felt renewed need flow through him.

There was a little voice at the back of his mind telling him that he didn't do casual relationships and asking him if he knew what the hell he was doing, but he wasn't taking a whole lot of notice of it. He did realise that this probably had something to do with his vampire nature, after all he had had it explained on several occasions that vampires were very sexual creatures, but that didn't stop it being real.

"If that is what you wish, Mon Ami," Stéphane said, smiling a little wider, "I believe it can be arranged."

Johnny decided in that instant that he had a firm yes and now was 'in the near future' and let go of his inhibitions, grabbing Stéphane and stealing another kiss. This time Stéphane kissed back.

They more stumbled into the bedroom than actually walked, while Stéphane divested Johnny of the clean robe he had put on after trying to get rid of the blood covered one and Johnny did his very best to pry Stéphane out of his jeans and sweater. It was neither graceful nor seamless in its execution, but they somehow made it onto the bed naked, eventually, and Stéphane climbed on top of Johnny without so much as asking permission.

Johnny was breathing hard, cock already very much interested in proceedings and demanding attention where Stéphane was very deliberately rubbing their bodies together.

"You are beautiful, Johnny," Stéphane said, making his groan with a particularly long, slow grind of his hips, "I think perhaps I should show you how much that turns me on."

It was amazing how Stéphane could get away with saying things that out of another mouth would have sounded ridiculously corny.

"Yes please," was about the only reply in Johnny's head.

When Stéphane began running his tongue along the cross on his chest, Johnny almost came undone there and then. The cross underlined his near failure, it marked his shame and his fear, and yet Stéphane seemed to be drawn to it. The Swiss mapped it out with his tongue and his lips and Johnny whimpered under the attention. Somehow his skin felt twice as sensitive, twice as receptive to any touch where the ink was bound into his flesh and he clutched at the bed sheets, his muscles twitching and making him writhe. Stéphane was taking him apart and he hadn't even so much at touched a nipple and Johnny was all too aware that there was no longer any pressure on his cock.

"Stéphane, please," he eventually begged; he needed something more, anything, absolutely anything.

He wasn't used to being reduced to begging this quickly, although lately he hadn't been used to anything but his hand and the odd dildo, so all was fair really. He was pretty sure he was going to go mad if Stéphane didn't do something else soon though.

"Do you have..?" Stéphane began to ask, seemingly happy to oblige.

"Small case," he interrupted, pointing wildly at where his luggage had been stacked.

All his things that he'd had waiting for pickup in his last hotel's luggage room had been transferred to this hotel, for which he was suddenly infinitely grateful. He wanted Stéphane so badly at that moment that he would have been happy with no protection and hand lotion from the bedside table, but it was always better to be safe when possible. The moment Stéphane climbed off the bed he wanted him back, so he wound his fingers in the sheets and tried to think of anything but going after him and leaping on him like it was the most fantastic idea in the world. It gave him a hint that he might be a little more desperate than he had thought.

"You came prepared," was Stéphane's comment after opening the case.

"Yes, fuck, get back here," Johnny replied, not caring that Stéphane had probably just found his favourite toy which he had packed because skating with Stéphane and Evgeni always made him horny.

Given that Stéphane did indeed come back to the bed without even teasing him, he guessed his desperation was showing all too clearly. He honestly wasn't sure if it was anything to do with his new vampire side, if he needed some sort of physical confirmation that he wasn't a monster to be afraid of, or if he just really, really needed sex, and right about then he didn't care.

"Through the mattress?" Stéphane checked with a small smile.

"God yes," Johnny replied and spread his legs in a very wanton manner.

The lube was cold and Stéphane's fingers were very insistent, but it was just what he had asked for, so he all but purred in delight as Stéphane touched him. He hadn't had a human partner in quite some time, but he liked toys enough that his body was well used to being opened and Stéphane barely had to try to get two fingers into him. His ass just gave in to his desire and all but sucked Stéphane's fingers inside; he was so ready for this. Stéphane seemed to think so as well, because, after only a short while and another finger, Stéphane was climbing between his legs and pushing them up and back.

He could not take his eyes off his lover as Stéphane ripped open and unrolled a condom onto his ample cock, before smearing it generously with lube and moving forward. Johnny literally hummed with pleasure as Stéphane slowly lined up and pushed into him. He threw his arms over his head and grabbed the pillow as he forced his body to relax and allow the penetration. His ass was tight and a little resisting, possibly he had been a little too eager, but he didn't care, relishing the feeling as Stéphane filled him.

"Johnny?" Stéphane asked, voice taught with arousal.

All he could do was mumble something that he hoped was encouragement in return. He felt so human and just a little vulnerable as his body complained at the too fast assault, and it was wonderful.

"More," was what he said when he finally managed to make a coherent sound.

For a few seconds he began to think there was no end to Stéphane as his lover continued to push into him. He was pretty sure Stéphane wasn't that big, but it sure felt like it; it had really been far too long. Since he had asked for more, Stéphane seemed determined to give it and he barely had any time to adjust as Stéphane began to move. It was slow at first, careful and gentle, but he had made his needs rather clear and the pace began to build quite quickly. As far as Johnny was concerned it was magnificent.

It took only a few thrusts for his body to become properly used to the whole idea and then it was pleasure all the way. They were both flexible and strong and after some particularly long and demanding strokes into him, Stéphane dragged his hips up, angling him on the bed and drove into him even deeper. His nerves turned to fire as Stéphane bullseyed his prostate with about as much force as possible without it being painful and he was pretty sure he said something, but he had no idea what it was. His brain and his body were on different planes of existence for a few moments and he just wanted it to go on and on.

The major advantage of being Olympic athletes as far as Johnny was concerned was stamina. Stéphane pounded into him with no signs of being tired or needing to stop and it was exactly what he wanted. It took all the focus off his thoughts, off what had been happening and allowed him to just exist in the moment where the physical wiped away his higher brain.

Johnny could feel his orgasm building; it was like a tidal wave growing on the horizon and he knew without a doubt it was going to wash him away. He had never felt so raw, so open, so needy as he did then; his whole body screamed in want.

"Stéphane," he said, trying to say something, but he really didn't know what.

His hands were gripping the top of the mattress and he could feel himself slipping closer and closer to losing control. As he arched his back, taking Stéphane in as far as physically possible, his senses sharpened and the night came alive. He couldn't help it, his vampire side slipped its bonds and want overpowered everything. He had grabbed Stéphane, pulling him down and wrapping his legs around his flexible lover and his fangs were slicing into Stéphane's throat before he could stop himself.

Pleasure overwhelmed him as the blood hit his tongue and his orgasm hit his body at the same time. For a fleeting second Stéphane's mind was open to him and he felt the spike of ecstasy ram through his lover's body as well, carrying them both away on a tide of physical bliss. He didn't even know when he stopped biting or what he did after he had, not for what seemed like a long time as his mind and body floated in a sexually replete haze. In fact, he didn't really register anything at all for ages, except the warmth of Stéphane on top of him in their intimate embrace.

It was only when Stéphane moved, pushing away from him on wobbly arms, that his brain kicked back in and what he had just done came crashing down on him. Suddenly he was terrified; he was just what Anton said he was, a monster, a monster who could have just killed his lover. The vampire was back in the box, but he could still taste blood in his mouth and the fact that Stéphane was moving and seemed to be okay was a wonderful accident.

"Mon Amour," Stéphane said, sounding more than a little dazed, "I do not believe I was ready for that."

Johnny didn't know what to do; Stéphane's tone was not accusatory, but that didn't stop the panic in his head.

"Are you okay?" he eventually decided was about the only thing that made sense.

"Mais oui," Stéphane said, apparently completely oblivious to Johnny's panic, "I am flying high. I had not imagined that being bitten could feel so incredible."

Johnny remembered being bitten, he remembered how his body had responded as his mind quailed in terror and he did his very best not to totally freak out. Even as he looked at Stéphane's neck, the two neat little holes were already scabbed over, but they glared back at him, revealing his shame. Stéphane smiled at him in a bleary, high kind of way, leant down and kissed him gently and then climbed off, flopping onto the bed with little of the grace he had shown during the rest of the evening.

"I'm sorry," Johnny blurted out and Stéphane finally looked at him properly.

"Oh," Stéphane said as if catching up with what might be going through his head. "Do not look so worried, Mon Amour, it was not bad."

"I bit you," was all he could find to say, which was very obvious and very stupid, but it was all that was in his head.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"But it was good," Stéphane said, sitting up beside him.

"I could have killed you," he said, disgusted at his own lack of control.

Stéphane placed a very gentle hand on his back.

"Non," his lover said very firmly, so firmly in fact that Johnny found himself turning and looking; "it was a love bite, Mon Amour," Stéphane told him as soon as his lover had his attention, "I have given them myself on occasion."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Johnny did not know where to begin.

"I drank your blood," he said, stressing every word, "how many love bites have you ever given to do that?"

"I am not a vampire," Stéphane pointed out and Johnny was pretty sure that was what he had been trying to make very clear.

It was infuriating; Stéphane seemed to be wilfully missing the point.

"I ... you ..." Johnny did not know what to say first.

Stéphane knelt up and took his face in two hands, looking directly into his eyes.

"I was expecting it," Stéphane said very clearly and made him completely freeze.

His thoughts all fell over each other as that fact settled in his brain.

"But you said you weren't ready," he said, feeling a little bit slow and stupid.

"You misunderstand, Mon Amour," Stéphane told him with a smile; "it was far more intense than I could have imagined, that is what I was not ready for. You have already explained to me that vampires are creatures drawn by sex and blood and that your bite is not infectious. It was logical to assume that you might bite me when we made love. I would not have agreed if I had not been ready to allow it. It was spectacular, Mon Amour, so you should not worry."

Johnny wished he could.

"I had no control," he confessed, well aware that he had just let go and allowed his vampire to take over.

Stéphane kissed him gently.

"It was your first time," his lover told him gently, "I believe you will need practice. I think we should definitely make sure you get it, ne c'est pas?"

It took Johnny's panicked brain a couple of seconds to catch up with that and then he laughed. Stéphane was making a joke; the son of a bitch was actually joking about it and it took everything for him to stop the laugh becoming a sob. His whole life seemed to be a rollercoaster, from high to low and back again and he didn't know if he could deal with it.

"I think perhaps," Stéphane said, gathering him into his arms and pulling him down towards the bed, "that you need to sleep."

Johnny didn't have the heart to tell his lover he was wide awake, he just lay there, let Stéphane cover them both with the sheets and then shut his eyes. He lost himself in the beating of Stéphane's heart, its rhythm strong and true, and it was hours before he actually fell asleep.

  


"I am coming with you," Stéphane said simply and made Johnny's brain do a back flip to catch up.

"I'm going to my parent's place," he pointed out, not sure if Stéphane realised what that meant.

"Oui," Stéphane told him with a smile, "and I look forward to seeing the rest of your family again; it has been too long."

Clearly Stéphane did know what he was getting into.

"Mon Amour," Stéphane said and gave him a little kiss, "I would not abandon you at a time such as this. Zhenya has already replaced me on the tour; I will be by your side."

Johnny felt a bit teary eyed. It had taken another five days before all the red tape had been cleared up and the powers that be had finally decided that Johnny was allowed to go home. He had stuck to his amnesia story and Evgeni had pulled the right strings, but it had still taken time to get the bureaucracy out of the way. He was truly grateful for a friend like Evgeni, who had, frankly, made sure he didn't have to worry about anything except eating, sleeping and answering a few questions. Even with Kings on Ice going on, Evgeni had somehow managed to be in whatever place he was needed; Johnny was more than simply impressed.

With the press hanging around the whole time and Johnny not really wanting to have anything to do with Moscow for a while at least, he, Stéphane and Patti had remained in the hotel. The fact that he and Stéphane had slept together that first night in the hotel had been more than obvious to Patti the next day, Johnny had seen her notice, but she had not commented immediately, especially when it had become clear that he and Stéphane were apparently trying to stay as close as physically possible without actually being indecent throughout the whole of that day. They had both always lacked personal space needs when around each other since they were boys, but it had been a bit more than that. Patti had then made sure he wasn't setting himself up for a fall by having a quiet word that evening and then left them to get on with it.

Johnny wasn't sure what he had expected and had just accepted the comfort for what it was. Stéphane had taken great pleasure in teaching him that he could indeed have sex without defaulting to biting his partner and they were definitely closer than ever, but there had been nothing concrete. He had noticed Stéphane's pet name for him change from 'Mon Ami' to 'Mon Amour', but he hadn't expected Stéphane to drop everything to accompany him back to the States.

"I don't think I deserve you," he said, feeling somewhat over emotional.

He threw his arms around Stéphane, because it seemed like the right thing to do and he clung on for a bit. Stéphane being Stéphane of course hugged back and they stayed that way for quite a while until there was a knock on the door.

"Johnny," he heard Patti call, "are you ready; the car's here?"

He didn't really want to let go and he didn't want to brave the press and go out in public where he would have to put on a mask and not cling to Stéphane like a lifeline, but he could be practical when he had to be.

"Let's go," he said, pulling back, but linking his fingers into Stéphane's.

He'd have to give up that eventually as well, but he wasn't letting go until he actually had to. They had to get to the airport for security checks and everything, so there was no time to delay. He just hoped they were all together on the plane or he was probably going to end up causing a scene.

  


There was one thing that had been bothering Johnny all the way home. He didn't know a whole lot about vampire interactions, but he had seen enough movies to make him nervous and there was one thing really causing him anxiety. His dad and Boz were there to greet him, as was his aunt, but that wasn't the problem, they were people, he could deal with people, the one he wasn't so sure about trotted down the hallway as soon as they entered the house.

Vanya with his big dark eyes and serious little face wagged his tail and barked as he came down the hall and then just stopped. He was a few feet away and he just stared and Johnny didn't know what to do. It was obvious the little dog knew he was not the same and for a moment they simply looked at each other. Vanya turned his head on first one side and then the other before he yipped and then wagged his tail again and bounced the rest of the distance between them.

Johnny was so happy as when he bent down his tiny dog jumped into his arms that it completely cracked his composure. As he stood back up he could already feel tears in his eyes and he felt the sudden need to get away. He was breaking down and he didn't want everyone to see it.

"Sorry," he just about choked out and ran for his room, cuddling Vanya to his chest.

He climbed onto his bed, curled up and began to cry. The fact that Vanya still recognised him, still loved him meant so much to him that it just broke him. The little dog knew he was different, knew something had changed and yet still recognised him and it made all the difference. Humans didn't see behind masks, humans could be fooled easily, but animals saw in an entirely different way and for the first time Johnny actually felt real. If Vanya thought he wasn't a monster he had real hope.

Patti came and found him about half an hour later. Vanya greeted her by jumping up and down and barking happily as she sat down on the bed and Johnny did his best to smile.

"How are you feeling, Sweetheart?" Patti asked and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear for him.

"Shaky," he replied quietly, "frightened, but better."

His mom smiled at him in her usual calm way and then leant forward and kissed him on the forehead.

"Vayna doesn't think I'm a monster," he said hesitantly, almost afraid to voice what was going through his head. "I thought ... I thought ..."

"You thought that what those people tried to tell you might be true," Patti finished for him, taking his hand and stroking his fingers in a very soothing manner.

"People are so easy to fool, Mama," he said, feeling so very vulnerable.

"Not those you love aren't," his mom told him, petting Vanya as the little dog snuffled against her arm. "I know you, Johnny, and you have a gentle soul. That is what brought you through this, what will keep you safe."

They hadn't really had a heart to heart about the whole vampire thing, Johnny hadn't known what to say and Patti had given him the space to think it through, but right then his mother's faith in him was like a fierce hug. It made him feel better and stronger and just a little braver.

"I hope so, Mama," he said and managed a small smile.

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being.

"Now dinner will be ready in another half an hour," she said, kissing him on the forehead again. "Everyone is downstairs wanting to see you, but they're not going to bombard you with awful questions. Stéphane is doing great at holding his own, but I think it would be good if you came down to eat and helped him a bit. Do you think you can do that?"

It was as close as his mom was likely to get to telling him that he had to do something while she thought he needed space, so he smiled and nodded.

"I must be a mess," he said, knowing that his eyes were probably all puffy from the crying, "I'll clean up then I'll be down."

That earned him a much bigger smile.

"You're doing well, Johnny," Patti told him in a very kind and motherly tone, "no one expects you to be your normal old self. Just remember we all love you."

"Thanks, Mama," he said and he felt like he might cry again and had to blink it away.

"I think I'll go help Diane finish dinner before I set us both off," his mom said with a sniff and then climbed to her feet.

Johnny eventually walked down the stairs fifteen minutes later, trying to put a brave face on things. He felt nervous and there was a sick feeling in his stomach, which was ridiculous, because this was his family, but he couldn't help it. He let Vanya go at the bottom of the stairs and the little dog ran straight to his dad, jumping into his father's lap like a little missile.

"Huh, I've been abandoned," he said in a very dramatic tone, because it avoided having to wait for someone else to say something.

"You can cuddle me instead," Stéphane said with a very cute little eye flutter.

For that Johnny actually managed a real, full on smile.

He'd had a few interesting moments with his family over the years; he'd never really been normal in the scheme of things so he'd never been boring, but this felt a little more monumental. There was no plan in his head how to tell them the truth yet; it wasn't as if he was just letting them know that all their suspicions were true and he was gay. That conversation, which he remembered very well indeed, seemed like a cakewalk compared to trying to explain his current situation. It wasn't as if he was only revealing something about himself, this was something about how the world worked that was hidden for a very good reason.

Still at a loss to know how to deal with it all, he walked across the room and decided to take Stéphane up on his offer quite directly. He plopped himself down in Stéphane's lap and made himself comfortable, causing Boz to roll his eyes and Stéphane and his dad to laugh. It was just what he was after.

When dinner was served, the first course was uneventful, with everyone making small talk and Stéphane explaining why Swiss Chocolate was so wonderful. Johnny tried to be as close to his usual self as he could, but he was worrying a little too much to be the life and soul of anything, so he let Stéphane chatter on cheerfully. Of course he never knew when to leave well enough alone.

"I'm a vampire."

Johnny wasn't sure he'd meant to say it, but it just popped out. He'd been thinking it and trying to work out how to break it to everyone at the table, but clearly his mouth was ahead of his brain. They were in the middle of desert and he brought the whole table to a halt.

"Well that wasn't quite how I expected you to say it, Sweetheart," Patti said and broke the awkward silence, "but well done for getting it out in the open. Would you pass the cream please?"

He passed the cream like a good boy and waited for the other shoe to drop as everyone accept Stéphane looked at him and Patti liked they'd gone mad.

"Did you say vampire?" Boz finally asked, spoon hovering above his plate and threatening to drop apple pie right back in the bowl.

Johnny nodded.

"And is vampire a new look you're trying out?" Boz asked, and his brother looked thoroughly confused.

This time Johnny shook his head.

"Pointy teeth, aversion to bright lights, blood," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage given the circumstances, which wasn't really much of the kind at all.

It wasn't exactly a well thought out explanation.

"This is a joke, right?" was the next tentative question, so he shook his head again in answer to that.

"I was bitten by a vampire who was then killed by vampire hunters and they stopped me becoming a monster with this," he said in one big rush and moved his shirt a little so the top of the cross was visible for a moment (it was almost become a habitual gesture).

Someone had leaked a picture of the cross to the press, so it wasn't like the whole world hadn't seen it.

"So you remember then?" his dad asked in his usual gentle tones.

"Everything," he replied with a nod, "the amnesia story was just the easiest way to stop people asking stupid questions."

Stéphane gave him a sympathetic smile and reached out to take his hand under the table.

"Vampires bad like Dracula or not so bad like Twilight?" Boz asked and the references made Johnny wince, but he could see why his brother might have used them.

"All bad, all very bad," he said firmly, because he wanted there to be no doubt. "Vampires are evil and they want humans to eat, have sex with or turn into more vampires, or possibly all of the above. I was very, very lucky."

Stéphane squeezed his fingers.

When his Aunt Dianne stood up, he thought maybe he had finally gone that one step too far for his family to accept, what he didn't expect was Dianne to walk round the table and then quite deliberately hug him.

"It must have been terrifying," she said, holding him tight and all he could do was hug back and do his very best not to burst into tears again.

He'd done a hell of a lot of crying recently and he'd just about had enough of his emotions betraying him.

"Yeah," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too thick when he was finally released.

"Vampire hunters?" Boz asked, which was just the distraction he needed. "There are really vampire hunters."

Johnny nodded, trying to focus on memories of Zhanna and Yuri and the others, rather than anything else.

"They keep the population down," he explained, trying to make it sound as if he was talking about the weather or something equally as innocuous. "The hunters I met were mostly decent people."

His mother made a disagreeing noise at that.

"They were just trying to make sure everyone was safe," he pointed out, even though half the table would not understand what he was talking about.

"They tried to drag you off at gun point," Patti replied, clearly not a fan, "and they shot you, twice."

Johnny couldn't argue with that.

"Anton shot me twice," he said in half agreement, "and Anton's an asshole. If it wasn't for them I wouldn't be here, I'd either be dead or trying to eat people in Moscow."

He did not like that the hunters had tried to take him back, but he did understand why they had done it. They were fighting a war, one they couldn't win, and from their point of view their actions had been right.

"Twice?" his dad sounded shocked.

The fact he had been shot and slightly injured had been in all the news, but of course no one had found out about the second incident.

"The first time I got shot I was escaping," Johnny explained, hoping that he wasn't making things worse, "the second time was when the hunters tried to take me back from the hotel. They finally saw it my way, but not before there was an accident. When I let the fangs out I heal, so I don't even have a scar for the second time."

He saw Boz's eyes light up with curiosity when he said 'let the fangs out'.

"Yes, Boz, real fangs," he said and didn't make anyone ask, he allowed his vampire form to come forward.

It still frightened him a little, but Stéphane had been a big help in moving him towards accepting this other side of himself. The fact that Stéphane had declared Johnny's vampire face to be inordinately sexy several times and made sure the point was hammered home with physical proof, had helped enormously.

"That is so cool," Boz said with genuine awe in his voice.

Johnny actually felt himself blushing. So far everything was going far better than expected.

End of Ch 2


	3. Finding Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

**Title:** After Night Comes Dawn 3 of 5  
 **Author:** [](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**beren_writes**](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** Figure Skating RPS  
 **Pairing:** J Weir/S Lambiel, J Weir/E Lysacek, J Weir/S Lambiel/E Lysacek  
 **Rating:** NC17/18  
 **Warnings:** threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language  
 **Summary:** AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

 **Artist:** [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) [Art only post](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/341488.html?mode=reply).

 **Mixer** [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/) [Mix link](http://solookup.livejournal.com/1085785.html)

**Chapter 3 Finding Strength**

Johnny had asked Tara to see if she could arrange him some private ice time and, the jewel that she was, she'd called back after only an hour. The rink was small, but it wasn't too far away and they had been happy to let him have the whole place all to himself for an hour. Of course all to himself meant Stéphane was along too.

"You know," his lover said from where Stéphane was standing behind him, "to skate one must be on the ice."

"Shut up," he replied and swiped playfully at Stéphane's arm.

He was well aware he had been standing there for five minutes just looking, but he was strangely nervous. He hadn't been on the ice since the whole vampire thing had started and he was irrationally worried about it. Why he had no idea, that was the irrational part.

Stéphane nudged him in the back and he finally stepped out onto the ice. It felt just like it always felt like and he laughed, more at himself than anything else. Sometimes he was such an idiot.

"Now," Stéphane said, resting his chin on Johnny's shoulder and putting a hand on his waist, "we skate."

He didn't so much as try to resist as Stéphane propelled them forward and he laughed again, this time in delight. They had goofed around together on the ice so many times in the past, but this was different, somehow it felt far more intimate. They ended up face to face and doing a dance that was somewhere between a waltz and something unidentifiable, but Johnny didn't mind, he was happy to feel the ice beneath his skates and just look at Stéphane. For some reason part of him had been sure this would feel different, that he wouldn't like it anymore or wouldn't know how to do it, but, of course, it was all familiar and it was wonderful.

  


Grinning suddenly, he disentangled himself from Stéphane and took off down the rink.

"Catch me if you can," he yelled over his shoulder.

It was childish, but, with a whoop, Stéphane rose to the challenge. Johnny hadn't played ice tag in years; it was the kind of thing coaches frowned upon, but, boy, was it fun. He had forgotten how much until he danced out of the way of Stéphane at one end of the rink and then went charging off down the other. In the end, after several more laps, Stéphane sat down on the ice and refused to chase him anymore.

"Spoilsport," he complained, laughing and skating up to his friend and lover.

"Non, Mon Amour," Stéphane said, catching his hand and kissing his fingers, "I simply favour baiting the trap rather than chasing the mouse."

"I'm not the mouse," he replied with a grin, "I'm the cat," and he let his vampire out.

It wasn't the best of ideas; suddenly everything was too bright and too loud and his whole world narrowed down to Stéphane. He could smell sweat and musk and the first stirrings of arousal from his lover and it tried to rip his control away. All his feel for the ice and concentration were dragged away and his entire focus was on Stéphane, just Stéphane and nothing but Stéphane. It was all very overpowering.

"Fuck," he said pointedly and threw his hands over his eyes, demanding a little self control.

It was harder to put the vampire back in the box than he would have liked to admit and for a second he considered skating away, but he wasn't sure he could stay on his feet, so he remained where he was.

"Johnny, are you okay?" Stéphane asked after a few moments.

"Fine," he replied shortly, annoyed with himself as he tried to reassert his equilibrium.

Stéphane carefully climbed to his feet and then Johnny felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"Sorry," he apologised as he realised he had snapped at his lover, "vampires and ice skating don't mix."

"Too light?" Stéphane asked in a very careful tone that made Johnny smile.

He was going to miss it when people stopped tiptoeing around him.

"Too bright, too everything," he admitted, feeling a little bit stupid, "and then there's this overriding need to ravish you no matter what the temperature might be. For a while there I didn't even remember how to stand up on the ice, let alone skate."

"Ah," Stéphane said in a sage like tone, "perhaps we should wait for that until we return home."

That made Johnny laugh, which he guessed was the point, although he did make a mental note to take his lover up on that promise later.

"I think you're right," he replied, refusing to let the incident ruin their ice time. "Come on," he decided, "throw me, if we're going to be pairs champions for Sochi we need to start practicing now."

Stéphane laughed as well and Johnny grinned; he really did love the ice.

  


Picking up the phone, Johnny dialled the familiar number and waited. There was another person he needed to tell the truth, especially after being on the ice.

"Hello," came the almost fierce greeting.

"Hello," he replied after taking a deep breath, "it's Johnny."

"Johnnik," Galina said, sounding overjoyed to hear his voice, "I am so glad to hear your voice. How are you doing?"

"I've been on the ice," he replied, curling his leg under him on the couch in his parents' living room.

"This is good," was the instant response and his coach sounded genuinely happy for him, "but you are not rushing it, yes?"

He smiled to himself at the concern in Galina's voice; she was tough on him on the ice, but he knew she genuinely wanted what was best for him.

"There's nothing wrong with me," he said, voice getting smaller as he approached the truth, "nothing to stop me skating."

"Nothing from the bullet?" Galina asked, making it very clear she was completely up to date on his health as far as the public face of it went.

"Barely a scar," he said, wondering what she would make of that.

Bullet wounds did not go away with no residual problems just like that; not even small ones.

"You are welcome back whenever you wish, Johnnik," Galina finally said, as if she was considering possibilities about why he was calling her.

He wasn't sure he was going to be in the right headspace for that for a while yet, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Thanks," he replied, balling his courage up to explain, "but that's why I'm calling. You might not want ..."

He really didn't know where to start.

"Johnnik," Galina said in her best motherly tone, "unless you retire, you are not losing me."

That made him smile again, even as his nerves made him shiver.

"Something happened," he said eventually, "in Russia, something bad."

"You are remembering?" was the immediate question.

"I never forgot," he replied honestly.

That brought a few moments silence.

"Tell me," was all Galina said after that.

He took a deep breath.

"Do you believe in vampires?" he asked, totally unsure of the answer he would get, because he never put anything past Galina.

"Oh, Johnnik, no," Galina said, sounding as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.

It was a bit of a shock not having someone react with complete disbelief when he mentioned vampires, but somehow, because it was Galina, it was not as surprising as it could have been.

"I should be dead," he said quietly, "but I'm not. You know when you keep telling me I can do anything if I put my mind to it; I think I might be beginning to believe you."

"I knew truth as soon as I saw you," Galina said simply, "now tell me what happened."

So he did, he explained it all, from the moment he had realised he was lost to how it had felt on the ice that afternoon and his coach just listened to is all as he talked. When, at times, he ran out of words, she encouraged him and in return he gave her the whole truth, even the fact that his sex drive seemed to be ramped up.

"Maybe that will not be such problem for you anymore then," had been Galina's comment on that and he had no idea how Galina came to that conclusion, but he didn't argue.

It was so cathartic and after nearly an hour he felt so much better.

"I never asked," he said eventually as he finally realised that his story was told, "how do you know about vampires?"

"Grandmother," Galina said simply, "she was firm believer in old truths and taught us all. I have seen too many things in life not to know stories are not all just tales."

Ever practical, that was Galina and it comforted him. She had asked him about skating and if anything felt different on the ice and grilled him for all the details, but he knew it was because she was already making plans. He didn't know what he was going to do yet; he was in no state to skate competitively yet, but he didn't know how soon that would change and it was good to know his coach was there for him. He had a future, whatever it turned out to be, and that was all he needed to know.

  


Returning to his own home felt like a natural step just under three weeks after coming back from Russia. Patti didn't seem so sure, but had let him go back to his apartment with Stéphane in tow after a little persuading. Once he had cleaned the place from top to bottom, with more hindrance from Stéphane and Paris (who had been there to welcome him back) he had felt much better. He had spent one day settling back in and then he had called Tara. They had been in contact by phone and email all the time, but there were some things that had to be done in person.

He was too close to Tara and needed her too much to keep her in the dark, but now she was sitting in his living room with a glass in her hand, he didn't know what to say.

"Johnny, are you okay?" she asked gently; Tara had been so incredibly good with him since the attack.

Since his world had turned on its head, he was a bit temperamental at times, but Tara was handling everything so well. She had never signed up for a neurotic, well maybe that should have been more neurotic client like him, but Tara was proving to be the godsend he had always knew she was.

"Yeah," he said, sitting down from where he had been just standing there, "kind of."

"What did you want to talk about?" Tara asked and gave him a very supportive look when he glanced up at her.

"Russia," he said and Tara instantly put her glass down and sat forward a little in concern.

She did not push him and she did not demand to know what was on his mind, but she did reach out and gently take his hand. He was beginning to wonder why he had asked Stéphane to leave them alone for this; he could have done with the moral support.

"I don't have amnesia," he said eventually, looking her in the eye; "I remember it all."

That definitely shocked Tara, but he could tell she was not jumping to conclusions.

"Do you need me to deal with anyone?" Tara asked him and he wasn't quite sure what she meant, but it made his heart swell a little at her concern.

"No thanks," he said and gave her a little smile which lasted about a second, "Zhenya has some scary connections and he dealt with everything."

That didn't seem to shock Tara at all and Johnny couldn't help wondering how much his agent had been talking to his Russian friend.

"Things exist, Tara," he said, not sure how to explain; "things we think are myths. I wasn't attacked by a human being. This," he added and put his hand on his chest over the tattoo, "is not decoration."

For the first time he saw a flicker of something in Tara's eyes that told him he was losing her. There was worry and it was more than obvious she did not believe him.

"Please don't scream," he said quietly; "I'm not going to hurt you," and then he pushed his vampire nature to the surface.

Tara all but glowed in his vision and he sat very still, allowing her to look at him. Very slowly, almost as if she was mesmerised, Tara lifted one of her hands and touched the side of his face so lightly he almost didn't feel it.

"Your eyes," Tara said, wonder in her voice.

"And teeth," he said, arching his lips so she could see one fang.

It was more than just that of course, but they were the most obvious things.

"Vampire?" Tara said, coming to her own conclusion just as he had known she would.

He nodded and let her look for a little longer before pushing the vampire below the surface again.

"I was bitten," he explained, watching carefully to see if Tara was about to freak, "but before the vampire could kill me or drag me off somewhere to have his wicked way with me I was rescued by vampire hunters."

"Like Buffy?" Tara asked and made Johnny laugh.

The image of Anton in a cheerleading outfit jumped into his head unbidden.

"Mostly more macho," he replied as he realised Tara was taking everything remarkably calmly. "Long story short, I was turning into a vampire like the one who bit me, so they tattooed me with the cross and stopped it. It was a last resort and I was gone so long because they tried just about everything else first. I'm stuck in the middle somewhere, human most of the time, vampire occasionally."

"Excuse me," Tara said after a moment, "I need a drink."

Then she picked up her glass and took a couple of huge gulps before setting it back down. Johnny just watched, unsure that interrupting would be a good idea.

"Okay, vampires," Tara said and shook herself, "I can deal with this."

When she looked back at him, Johnny sat there and waited for her verdict.

"You're okay though?" she asked and rather surprised him.

"Um, yes," he replied, not quite sure where this was going, "I'm fine, mostly. Still getting used to the whole thing, but you know me, I could bounce back from a nuclear blast."

It wasn't quite true, but it was what Tara needed to hear and she nodded as if she believed him even though she probably didn't.

"Do you need anything?" Tara asked and took the conversation in a direction he really hadn't expected it to go.

Of course Tara was his friend as well as his agent, so he realised he should have realised what would happen.

"Do you need blood?" she asked quickly.

He nodded.

"And where are you getting it now?" was the next efficient question.

"Stéphane," he admitted honestly.

That didn't seem to shock Tara either and Johnny was beginning to think he had made the best choice in the world when he had picked her.

"What about when he has to go home?" Tara asked, displaying an incredible level of forethought given the situation.

It began to dawn on Johnny that, where he cleaned to settle himself, Tara organised.

"I hadn't got that far yet," he replied and he was not overly surprised when Tara pulled out her Blackberry and began making notes.

"Is this going to affect your skating?" was her next question and Johnny settled in for a grilling.

"No," he told her and they went from there.

By the time Stéphane returned from the evening out with Paris, Tara had just about everything sorted out and Johnny was sure things were looking better than ever.

  


There were a hundred and one theories going around as to what had happened to Johnny, from a crazy fan kidnapping and drugging him, through him being attacked for being gay or a figure skater or American or any combination of the above, right to the nastier ones that he had been on an almost week long bender and shot himself to cover it up. Johnny couldn't exactly put the record straight and had to keep pretending he didn't know what had happened, but that didn't stop the requests for interviews coming in. He was now a survivor, even if no one knew what of, and people wanted to hear his story.

The moment the word went out that he was back on his feet, his calendar was full. He did talk shows, red carpets, radio interviews and even glossy spreads in magazines. Then there was the last episode of the first season of Be Good Johnny Weir to finalise as well, which went fantastically, and the production company began talking about season two as if it was a complete certainty.

He was more of a media darling than ever and everyone knew about the cross and most were very delicate about it, asking if he was going to have it removed and things like that, but it was more than clear they all wanted to see it. In the end he began to realise it was almost as famous as he was and he decided to embrace it. He took his shirt off on live television and then did a full page spread in a national magazine to show the damn thing off. He was through being a victim.

  


When one of his angels sent him a beautiful jacket with the cross incredibly carefully hand stitched onto the back, he wore it with a thin gauze shirt that showed off the real thing. He hit the front page of a couple of entertainment mags with that one.

Of course Stéphane had to go home after a few weeks and there were tearful goodbyes and kisses at the airport and then more publically, hugs that hit the internet almost before they were over. Neither of them were of a mind to hide their relationship, but they weren't about to broadcast it either. Their official stance was that Stéphane had become Johnny's confidant while he was in hospital and had insisted on helping his transition back to normal life. It wasn't far from the truth, so Johnny was happy with it.

The problem was, as soon as Stéphane was gone, the nightmares started. He had had a few right at the beginning, but with Stéphane there they had stopped and with Stéphane back home they began again. He spent several sleepless nights before he finally woke up one night and just rang his friend and lover. Stéphane talked him to sleep and thus began a pattern; his phone bills went up, but his nightmares went down and it seemed to be a workable system. Tara got him a deal on his calls so that Stéphane's number became really low rate and life continued on.

Blood was delivered every Tuesday and he drank it when he needed it from a glass, through a straw like a civilised human being. He started training properly again and accepted a couple of ice shows and everything started to go back to normal. He had to get a small second fridge to put in his bedroom for the blood so that Paris wouldn't find anything when nosing around in his kitchen and his collection of sunglasses began to get an even greater work out than usual, but those were the only major changes he had to make. He had decided that he was not telling anyone else about his condition, not even his best friend and he stuck to it. It worked for a while as well, right up until a trip to L.A. to talk to the publishers about his upcoming book.

  


He was an idiot, that much Johnny was well aware of. It had been a fun evening out with a few acquaintances and then he'd had to go and spot Evan Lysacek of all people. He'd followed the other skater from a bar to the club they had just exited and he should have left well alone. Firstly he really wanted to bite Evan; the need was almost overwhelming, but he was just about managing to control himself (he could just imagine the talking to Stéphane would give him if he bit anyone without their express permission) and then there was the worrying sensation at the back of his skull.

Evan hadn't noticed him at first, but when he had Johnny had made sure Evan couldn't ignore him. That had been a mistake, especially when Johnny had sensed another vampire. He'd almost lost it in the club and he'd partially shifted for a moment so he was pretty sure the other vampire had noticed him, which made the whole thing worse. With protective instincts in play he'd gone too close to Evan and Evan had decided he was dicking with him and had stormed out; all in all very bad because the sensation of the other vampire would not go away.

"Evan," he said, choosing Evan's real name rather than any of the nicknames he usually called him, "come back inside, please. I'll leave, but it's not safe out here."

Evan was just drunk enough to not care it seemed and dark alleys in LA were not safe at the best of times and with what Johnny could feel, this one was definitely worse.

"Awww, not going to share, Sugar?" a voice said from the darkness and Johnny could just make out a shape in the shadows.

Without shifting form again he could not see her clearly, but he could see enough and, when she stepped out of inky blackness into one of the lights, he put himself between Evan and her.

"I'm not the sharing type," he said coldly, holding his ground.

"This is my hunting ground, Sugar," the female vampire said, smiling at him in a very unconvincing way; "either you share, or I take what I want and leave you in a little pile."

She sounded home grown American; looked it too, which meant the odds were in his favour. Given that she was probably assuming his bloodline was local as well, he had the advantage. His Russian bloodline would be stronger and although she was most likely much more experienced than he was there was no substitute for brute strength.

"You could try, Lapushka," he dropped into a Russian accent, wondering if he could scare her off that way.

"What the hell?" came from Evan. "Johnny, what the fuck are you doing?"

For a moment she hesitated, but then straightened again.

"Nice try, Sugar," she said and smiled dangerously, "but you don't scare me."

Evan stepped up to his shoulder and Johnny moved back in front of the other skater.

"Evan, stay behind me, okay," he said very firmly.

"Like hell I will," Evan replied, sounding more than a little drunk.

There was nothing else for it and Johnny turned to Evan and let his vampire traits out.

"Stay behind me," he said very pointedly, power making his voice resonate as he stressed each word, and he knew his eyes would be glowing.

"Shit," Evan said, taking a step back.

Point made, Johnny turned back to the problem at hand; he could deal with Evan later. The female vampire was frowning at him, obviously not understanding his motives.

"Last chance, Lapushka," he said, dropping back into the accent and hoping his strange behaviour would convince her not to risk a confrontation.

He was pretty sure he should have been afraid, after all he was up against a fully fledged vampire, but, although his heart was beating fast, it was not because he was scared. The vampire part of him was actually looking forward to the fight and he let it all the way to the surface. There was no point in holding back now; he needed every advantage he could get.

"This is my territory," the female vampire told him and snarled, showing him long vicious fangs, "I don't take well to invaders."

Then she launched herself at him, far faster than he was expecting and she got in the first blow. He stumbled back as her fists connected with his chest, but it fired him up more than damaging him. He growled and made an attack of his own, but she was fast and he barely caught her shoulder.

It did not start out as the most sophisticated fight, an exchange of hits, almost a measuring of strength more than anything else as they danced around each other, but Johnny had the disadvantage. He was keeping himself between the other vampire and Evan and it meant his range of movement was not as large. After a little while this left him with some gouges down his left arm and a bloody lip, when all he had to show for his attacks on the other vampire was a single scratch on her face. However, he was beginning to get the hang of his vampire abilities and he was faster than her.

The playing seemed to be over as she came in for another attack and grabbed both his wrists, trying to force him backwards against the wall. That was her first mistake. To begin with, he moved under the onslaught, but it didn't take him long to recover from the shock of the move and then he stopped. She pushed, but he held and held easily, bit by bit bringing his arm back down where she had pushed them up and to the side. For the first time he saw anxiety on the face of his opponent as she realised she was up against someone much stronger than she was.

Johnny was inexperienced, but he was getting the hang of the whole situation and that meant he was starting to win.

With a screech, the female vampire ripped one of her hands away from one of his wrists and claws raked at his shirt, but he was faster. Once free, he moved away just enough so that her attack ripped open the front of his shirt, but entirely missed doing any damage. His other wounds were already healing and he smiled at her, even as she backed away.

"Going to run now?" he asked, even though his vampire nature was urging him to attack.

"Never," was the hissed response and he saw her eyes flick to Evan.

Evan was his weakness and they clearly both knew it, but he was also sure he could distract her. His shirt was hanging awkwardly now, so he flicked the top button and let it fall open properly, which was when the other vampire saw the cross. Her eyes opened in shock and she stepped back again.

"What are you?" she demanded, clearly not understanding at all.

"Not like you," was all he replied.

It was almost as if everything was in slow motion suddenly. He saw her look at Evan again and even before she moved he knew what she was going to do. When she tried to dart round him, he was already in the way and this time he caught her arms. She screamed, trying to pull away as they came close together and the cross almost touched her, but Johnny was not letting her free. He was not letting her hurt Evan and it was clear that was what she was trying to do and he span them both, shoving her against the wall of the alley.

"Never like you," he whispered harshly and then drew back one of his arms.

He wasn't really aware of what he was going to do until he did it, but his fingers passed into her chest as if it was made of soft butter. The fact that he hadn't even considered where her heart was did occur to him, even as his fingers closed around it, and then he pulled. There was a look of abject shock on the female vampire's face and she stared at him for one second before her body realised her heart was gone and then her eyes went glassy. She died with little more than a gurgle and Johnny was left standing there, more than slightly shocked by what he had just done as the heart in his hand quivered one last time. Everything stayed like that for several seconds until there was a nasty squishing sound.

"Oh, yuck," Johnny said, dropping the corpse and the heart as it began to melt.

His hand was smeared with black blood, his shirt was ruined and he was not in the best of moods, but he was also well aware he now had to deal with Evan.

"Far be it from us to interrupt," a cocky voice said from further down the alley; "I mean, turf wars make our job that much simpler, but now it's our turn."

Johnny swore loudly in Russian before his brain caught up with how that might have been a really bad idea.

"Tyler, shut the fuck up and keep him covered," an older voice said and Johnny carefully lifted his hands.

He did not dare even twitch further than that, since he didn't want a cross bow bolt in the back, so he didn't even try to turn.

"This is not what it looks like," he tried, hoping to be able to explain somehow.

"Shut up vamp," the aforementioned Tyler said, "or you'll meet the Devil twice as fast."

Just what he needed, a vampire hunter with an attitude; clearly it was a rule that every group had to have one.

"Nick, check out the other one," the older voice instructed and Johnny assumed that voice had to belong to the leader of the group.

"Johnny?" Evan sounded really quite scared and not so much drunk anymore.

"Just do what they say, Evan," he said, not moving at all; "they're not the bad guys, at least I don't think they are."

There was the sound of movement.

"Hey!" came from Evan and Johnny almost turned.

"He's not been bitten," someone announced, Johnny assumed it was Nick.

"Can I turn around?" he asked, pretty sure that the cross on his chest would at least give him a chance. "You can shoot me in the front just as easily as the back."

"But your back is far less dangerous," the older voice said simply.

It was a fair point.

"Look," he said, still facing the wall, "take a good look at the man you think is a victim; you might recognise him."

"He does look familiar," the voice he thought belonged to Nick revealed a few moments later.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Johnny said, wondering what rock the hunters had been living under; "he's Evan Lysacek, an Olympic Gold Medallist; he was on Dancing with the fucking Stars, almost won it too."

He heard someone catching on to that.

"Which changes things how?" the older man asked.

"He's Johnny Weir," Evan said, in a kind of lost voice.

He was going to launch into a tirade about being on a red carpet that afternoon with lots of other famous pepole, something which had made the papers, but he was beaten to it: "Turn around," the older voice said, "very slowly."

He had never done anything quite so carefully in his life and he kept his hands exactly where they were as he slowly turned to face the hunters. A bright light was instantly shone in his face and he couldn't help the move to shield his eyes, but it had to make the cross on his chest even more obvious where his shirt was hanging open.

"Fuck," the one Johnny assumed was Nick said, "what the hell are you?"

"Half and half," Johnny said, still standing very carefully still. "Can I take my hands down yet?"

"No," was the very pointed reply from the older looking man who had a shotgun pointed directly at his head.

He guessed the teenager next to the older man was Tyler.

"What are you doing here?" the older man demanded of him.

"I was enjoying a night out," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm, "but then she turned up," he indicated the pile of goo on the ground with a nod of his head, "and things got ugly. I object to people taking bites out of my friends."

He and Evan weren't exactly friends in the real sense of the word, but they weren't enemies and, in the current situation, that was enough for him.

"Planning on doing any biting yourself?" the older man asked, but his weapon was no longer trained directly between his eyes.

"Not unless invited," Johnny replied in his best mock pleasant tone. "I know the Russians contacted half the US about me, didn't you get the memo?"

"Didn't believe it," the older man said and nodded to his companions who lowered their crossbows, "until now; thought they'd been at too much vodka."

Johnny carefully lowered his arms.

"Wish they had," he replied honestly, "but no, it's true."

Yuri had helpfully sent him a copy of the coded email the Moscow cell had sent out. It had mostly been favourable.

"Lurking in dark alleys can get you killed, Mr Weir," the older man said and indicated the end of the alley to his fellow hunters with a nod of his head.

"That's what I was just trying to tell Evan when she showed up," Johnny replied, about all he wanted to do was get out of Dodge as fast a physically possible.

The hunters began to disappear the same way they had come and Johnny began to breathe a little more easily.

"Good night, Gentlemen," the lead hunter said and then he was walking away as well.

It was so not how Johnny had wanted to finish the evening.

"Johnny," Evan said as they were left alone in the alley; "what the fuck is going on?"

The poor guy sounded kind of desperate and Johnny really couldn't blame him; it wasn't as if a person found out that vampires were real every day.

"Moscow," he said simply, watching the hunters disappear; "not a normal kidnap, don't have amnesia; it's more a matter of people would never believe me."

When he dared look at Evan, the other skater was clearly still trying to process what he had just seen.

  


"Vampires are real?" Evan sounded very unsure of himself.

"Yeah," Johnny replied with a nod, "and so are vampire hunters."

"And you're a vampire?" Evan sounded even more unsure of that one.

"Kind of," Johnny replied; it wasn't exactly easy to explain when he really wasn't quite sure himself. "The transformation to vampire is supposed to wipe out all humanity," he did his best to give Evan vampire 101; "vampires only care about blood and sex. I was found by a group of Russian vampire hunters before I turned completely; they helped me so I'm somewhere in between. Like this I'm human; if I let out the fangs and the eyes I get the vampire power. I need blood, but I can eat normal food too. As you just saw the experts don't really know what to make of me."

Evan still appeared very shell shocked.

"You can't even be a normal vampire," Evan said, seemingly falling back on their rivalry at completely the wrong time.

"I think I prefer it to the alternative," Johnny said, trying not to be too bitchy about it, "which, for your information, would be dead."

So maybe it came out a little harsher than he had meant it to. Evan didn't seem to know what to say.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Evan seemed to decide to go with an easier topic.

"A moment of insanity," Johnny muttered, more to himself than Evan.

"What?" was the not unexpected reply.

Johnny took a deep breath; he supposed Evan did deserve an explanation.

"I'm in LA for a publicity meeting," he said, since that was why he was in the city, "and I came out for a little fun. I saw you and kind of homed in."

Evan was frowning at him again.

"Homed in?" Evan asked, appearing very dubious. "On me? Why?"

It was a sensible question given the fact they usually avoided each other. Under normal circumstances they mostly pretended the other didn't exist; they had never been good friends even if at times they had been friendlier and the rivalry helped both their careers, so they had a system.

"Believe me," Johnny admitted, "it surprised me when I did it."

Of course that didn't explain anything and Evan frowned more; it was not a good look on him.

"This is so embarrassing," Johnny muttered even though he knew Evan would hear it. "I have a type, okay, and you fall way into the category. Seems my alternative side has picked up on it. Sometimes I'm under the control of my vampire instincts and by the time I got a hold of them this time we were in the same club and your expression was priceless, so I stuck around. I swear I did not mean to ruin your evening, just have a little fun, and then when I felt another vampire about there was no way I was letting you out of my sight."

He watched as Evan processed all of this information.

"I'm your type?" it wasn't the part of the explanation Johnny had expected Evan to pick.

He felt his face heating up as he blushed.

"Yes, okay," he said somewhat waspishly, "it happens to be dark and handsome; I've fancied you for years, can we just forget about it now?"

This conversation was becoming more awkward by the second.

"Your vampire wants to eat me?" Evan seemed to be a bit stuck.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Johnny said exasperatedly; "blood and sex, Evan; my vampire wants to more than eat you, but I have it firmly under control now. Now, let's skip it."

He glared at Evan to make his point and considered letting out his vampire, but decided that might be too much for Evan right about then.

"And the other vampire?" Evan looked over at the patch on the ground that had once been Johnny's opponent.

"Don't know," Johnny replied honestly; "she might have just bitten you and killed you, or she might have wanted her wicked way with you. Either way, I was not letting it happen."

It sounded so damn protective and he realised that maybe his instincts were getting the better of him again.

"Look," he said, realising they were not in the best place for the conversation, "I am covered in nasty shit and I'm half dressed, so I want to go back to my hotel. I am happy to answer your questions, but can we do it there?"

Evan's expression at that was even more priceless than when the Olympic champion had spotted him the first time in the club.

"Evan," he said, speaking very slowly; "I swear I will not attempt to jump you or in any other way molest you unless you specifically request it, now can we go, since you already abandoned your friends?"

Evan still didn't appear too sure, but did nod. Johnny breathed a sigh of relief and began to hope they could find a cab that would pick them up with him in his current state.

  


In the end they did find a cab and they made it back to Johnny's hotel. He had waved off the concierge by making up an incident in a club and then hurried Evan upstairs before anyone realised who was with him. He'd then left Evan with the mini bar and permission to take whatever he liked and dived into the bathroom to clean up. A shower, pair of jeans and a t-shirt later he stepped out of the smaller room and found Evan sitting in the one arm chair in the room, holding a beer.

"Sorry about that," he apologised, since he had left Evan in the lurch, "who knew vampire goo was so difficult to get off."

Evan handed him another beer that he hadn't noticed sitting on the table and he accepted it even though he didn't really feel like drinking it before sitting on the bed and pulling his legs up underneath him.

"What's the real story with the cross?" Evan asked almost as soon as he was sitting.

He looked down at himself and realised the v-neck of his chosen shirt just showed the tip of the cross.

"It was part of the treatment they gave me to stop the transformation," Johnny replied and changed his mind, taking a swig of the beer. "Vampires react badly to holy symbols of all kinds, something to do with the strength of faith on the human psyche. It hurt like a bitch when they did it, but I was on the verge of losing the battle and it did seem to be the turning point, forgive the pun."

"So it's like the movies?" Evan asked and it seemed he was taking the whole conversation seriously.

Johnny shrugged, since he really didn't know the whole story; it wasn't like he had taken a class.

"Some of it is," he replied as he thought about what he did know. "Normal vampires can't take sunlight, but they smoulder more than burst into flame. I just don't really like bright light even when I'm human. Their weak points are the heart and removing the head like the movies; all other wounds heal and limbs re-grow. If I get hurt I can heal it by letting the vampire out, but I need blood soon after if I do. I don't know what would happen if someone shot me somewhere deadly or something when I'm normal; I assume it would kill me, but you can understand why I haven't tested it."

Evan did manage to look a little less serious at that, for a moment at least.

"How do you get blood?" the other man asked next.

"Red cross," Johnny said, taking another swig of his beer and he saw Evan look dubious; "seriously; I buy it from them. Tara set it up so I look like some medical trust. I don't need it more than once a week; I'm addicted so I'd like it more, but I do have some self control."

"So you don't bite people?" Evan seemed a little stuck on that point and Johnny couldn't help feeling a little wicked.

"Why, Evan," he said and flashed a fang with a smile, "you sound disappointed."

The way Evan shifted in his seat made Johnny think he might have not been too far off, but he was above taking advantage of Evan's delicate psychological state and put it out of his head.

"There is one person I bite," he decided to explain; "and he seems to enjoy it, but we're not together very often. I wouldn't bite anyone without their express permission."

He made that point very clearly.

"Think of it like sex," he tried to give an analogy; "overpowering someone and just taking it would be like rape. I may have extreme instincts, but I am no more likely to act on them than I would have been to force myself on someone before."

That at least did seem to satisfy Evan, who nodded, seeming to understand. It was funny, explaining everything to Evan was nowhere near as uncomfortable as he had thought it would be and Evan wasn't reacting in any way he had really expected. The fact that Evan seemed to be taking everything in and cataloguing it in his head was kind of reassuring. He imagined how Paris would react if he told him and it made him smile as he visualised the complete flip out that would result.

"What's funny?" Evan asked, a little bit uncomfortably, and Johnny didn't really blame him, because Johnny did like making fun of his rival.

"I was just contrasting you with Paris and how he would react," Johnny said, not feeling like playing games; "he'd freak and probably scream the place down."

Evan didn't smile, but he did appear to settle a bit at the explanation.

"How many people know?" Evan asked, another reasonable question.

"My family, Tara, Galina, Evgeni, Stéphane and now you," Johnny said simply.

He saw the cogs tick round in Evan's head and he realised he had most probably revealed the partner he had deliberately not named.

"You and Lambiel are more than friends then?" Evan sounded surprised.

"That's private," Johnny said firmly and Evan had the decency to look abashed.

"Sorry," was the quick response.

"Moving on," Johnny said and forced a smile as he accepted the apology; "any more questions?"

"You're not exclusive?" Evan asked and then looked shocked at his own question.

It was obvious that there was a reason Evan usually took time before he spoke.

"Any more questions like that, Evan," Johnny said, smiling coyly, "and I'll take it as an invitation."

Evan went a deep shade of pink and shifted again. Johnny decided to ignore it as a physical reaction to the extreme situation and not read too much into it. Evan seemed to be just a little bit aroused. It was interesting information, but Johnny was not going to use it against his rival; Evan didn't seem to be as straight as his image suggested. Not that this shocked Johnny, he had known Evan a long time after all and he might not have known him well, but he had noticed things.

"How strong are you?" Evan asked, changing the subject about as smoothly as the situation allowed.

"Like this," Johnny said, perfectly happy with that topic, "normal, with the fangs out, very. I don't know how much stronger vampires are than humans, but it's a lot. I could lift you with one hand if I wanted; I've done it with Stéphane; he screamed like a girl."

He giggled at his own joke; it had been a very funny moment. Evan seemed to agree, because he saw the first real smile on the other man's face.

"God, this is so fucked up," Evan said, sitting back in his chair and running his hand through his hair; "how do you deal with it?"

"One day at a time," Johnny replied and saluted his companion with his bottle.

Evan gave him a long appraising look then and Johnny just let him.

"Has it affected your skating?" was the question that came from left field, but it kind of made sense given that their relationship was all about the ice.

"Not physically," he replied, honestly; "falling over is still a bitch, but I'm in a whole new head space now. It's taking some getting used to. I discovered pretty quickly that vampires can't concentrate for shit when it comes to ice skating and it's too bright and too loud even to have a little fun."

"Probably not the best place to go all fangy either," Evan observed in a very practical tone, "unless you want to out yourself to the world."

Johnny just couldn't let that one go completely.

"'go all fangy'?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"You knew what I meant," Evan defended himself; he was cute when he was wrong footed.

Johnny laughed and took a swig of his beer; Evan really wasn't the most eloquent of people, but he was kind of adorable. When he caught that thought, Johnny sat on it viciously; flirting was one thing, seriously thinking things like that was a whole other ball game.

"Do you mind if I ask what actually happened in Moscow?" Evan asked after a few moments of contemplative silence.

It was a bit of a surprise to himself when Johnny found he didn't. He shook his head, grabbed a pillow from the bed, hugged it to himself and tried to put his thoughts in some kind of order.

"Vampires can mesmerise humans," was how he decided to start, "or at least the older bloodlines can; don't think the others can do more than make themselves seem more attractive than they are. It was just my luck to attract the attention of one of Moscow's big boys and I ended up lost after he enticed me from where I was going."

He'd told the story only to a very select number of people, but it felt strangely easy to tell it again as he launched into a sanitised version of events. Evan, as it turned out, was a good listener.

  


As soon as Evan was safely on his way home, Johnny pulled out his phone and speed dialled Stéphane. It was 4am, but he was pretty sure that meant it was well into the morning where Stéphane was.

"Good morning, Mon Amour," Stéphane greeted, sounding completely perfect as ever, "is it not the middle of the night where you are?"

"Yes," Johnny replied, throwing himself onto the bed, "but you are never going to guess what happened to me this evening."

"You stripped naked in your hotel lobby and showed off your beautiful body?" was Stéphane's deadpan response.

That made Johnny stop for a moment, because it gave him ideas about him and Stéphane, which tended to derail his thoughts.

"No," he said, recovering himself and making sure Stéphane could tell he was rolling his eyes with his tone, "way more insane than that. Evan knows."

He congratulated himself on rendering Stéphane speechless when there was a few seconds silence.

"Would you care to explain, Mon Amour?" was the eventual comeback.

"Of course," Johnny replied, "why do you think I called?"

He settled down on the bed and made himself comfortable.

"You know sometimes my instincts get the better of me?" he started once he was in place.

"I have noticed on occasion," was the slightly amused response.

"Well I was out for a prowl with a couple of people from the publicity company," he continued, smiling at the memories Stéphane's tone brought up, "just wandering around to let out some pent up energy," he began to explain. "Then the next thing I know I'm inside this club and Evan is across the way; I followed him in without thinking about it. You have to admit he's nice on the eyes."

"Mais oui," was Stéphane's response, "I have often thought so."

That was interesting news, it wasn't as if they had really discussed Evan before.

"Well as soon as I realised what I was doing I shut it all down, but you know me," he continued, "can't resist messing with people like Evan a little bit, so I danced and had a good time. Then I felt another vampire around."

He heard Stéphane gasp.

"I thought I'd be afraid or something," he said, going over what had gone through his head, "but I wasn't, it was weird. I just felt incredibly protective and after that I couldn't leave."

"I can understand that," Stéphane replied, sounding a little strained.

"Well Evan blew a gasket and stormed off, because he caught me watching," Johnny continued his story, "and I went after him; that's when she appeared, the other vampire."

There was another gasp from the other end of the call.

"You are not hurt?" was the hurried question.

"Not a scratch," Johnny promised; "Yuri was right; the Russian bloodlines are a lot stronger than the North American ones. I might have gone a little OTT when I ripped her heart out, but she wanted Evan and I wasn't letting her have him. That's when the vampire hunters showed up."

From the sounds of it he was giving Stéphane heart failure.

"Vampire hunters," was the worried question.

"Hmm," he replied, rearranging himself on the bed, "they thought there was a turf war going on, but we eventually straightened it out. Maybe I should get a cross on my back too so it can be seen from all directions, I mean my shirt was wrecked by her claws and it was seeing the cross that seemed to be what convinced them."

There was breathing from the other end of the line.

"Mon Amour," Stéphane said eventually, "you are worrying me. You are in one piece yes, and unharmed?"

"Completely," Johnny promised, smiling to himself, "I am perfect, in fact I think I feel better than I have done in ages. I'm pumped. I met another vampire and I kicked her ass. It was weird too; Evan took the whole explanation really well. He freaked a little at first, but by the time I got him back to my hotel room and gave him the whole talk he was fine with it."

"Both of these are good," was Stéphane's considered opinion on the matter. "Since you are speaking to me I assume you have not yet made love to him."

That kind of derailed Johnny's thoughts.

"What?" was about the most sensible thing he could find to say.

Sometimes Stéphane just did not think like anyone else on the planet.

"I cannot be with you all the time, Mon Amour," Stéphane told him in a soothing tone, "and Evan would make a very good third. I have noticed, you do not do well alone no matter how you wish to pretend and vampires require sex as well as blood."

Johnny's thoughts were spinning. He and Stéphane had agreed not to be exclusive, because their lifestyles at the moment were insane and Johnny had joked about it with Evan, but he had never seriously considered being unfaithful to Stéphane. It might have been old fashioned, but he didn't work that way and his vampire nature had not yet insisted. He had assumed his half nature meant that wasn't so much of a problem, but it was starting to dawn on him that that might be why he had reacted on instinct when it came to that evening.

"But I'm in love with you," he admitted in a small voice, wondering what this really meant between them.

"Mais oui," Stéphane said in his usual cheerful tone, "and I you, Mon Amour, but our hearts are big enough for another, n'est ce pas?"

It was all a bit confusing, but Johnny was beginning to think Stéphane knew him a little better than he knew himself.

"You mean you want to ... with Evan as well?" he had to make sure he wasn't just misreading his lover.

"As you said, Mon Amour, he is very easy on the eye," Stéphane told him, "and when we are all in the same place I would expect you to share."

That made him laugh; Stéphane really did have Prince Charming down, but he was also a kinky bastard.

"I get it now," he said, feeling his heart lightening a bit, "you want me to seduce Evan so you can have your wicked way with him."

Stéphane made a speculative humming sound.

"You may be right," was the cheerful response and they both laughed.

These days Johnny was learning all sorts of things about Stéphane he had never guessed.

"But seriously, Mon Amour," Stéphane said, growing more serious again, "if he is willing I believe he would be good for you and us. That he already knows is one jump less and you have always watched him with a needy eye."

  


Johnny wasn't sure about that, but he wasn't about to argue with it; maybe Stéphane was seeing more than he was again.

"He was definitely interested," he admitted, remembering Evan's reactions, "but that might just have been all the adrenaline. We might actually be going back to being friends, so I don't want to wreck it."

Stéphane made an agreeing sound.

"D'accord," Stéphane eventually replied, "I shall leave it to your judgement, Mon Amour, but I will expect details if you change your mind."

Johnny grinned.

"That I can do," he promised, feeling very relaxed.

"Now," his lover told him from the other end of the call, "I wish to know exactly how you took down this queen bitch vampire woman. When I write my memoirs I must know all details so I may report them accurately."

That made Johnny laugh; he could just imagine how well that book would sell.

  


Johnny had been home for a few days then off doing an ice show and then he was back in L.A. for more meetings and red carpet stuff. The fact that Evan had offered him a place to stay while he was in town was kind of mind blowing. He had almost said no, using some excuse about hotels and ease of access, but then he'd changed his mind. Stéphane had told him to go for it, in fact, Stéphane had given him a whole plan that had made Johnny reconsider Stéphane's angelic persona quite a lot. The fact that Evan knew what he was, knew he had a thing for him and had still invited him to stay made him wonder if there wasn't something Evan was hiding as well. He wasn't conceited enough to think he was the be all and end all, but there did seem to be a few of them who had been carrying around crushes the size of rhinos and just not mentioning them.

Neither of them were stupid enough to have made the arrangement without talking to their agents first, so when people noticed, because they would very shortly, there was a story ready. Rivals to friends would make a good story and Johnny definitely wanted to keep the friends part, even if it didn't lead to anything else. They had been communicating mainly by phone, but they had just taken the step of deliberately friending each other on Twitter. Johnny had a bet on with Evan how long it would take their fans to notice.

He'd caught a taxi to Evan's house, because Evan Lysacek picking up Johnny Weir from the airport would have caused a circus. They both had fans who seemed to be psychic about where they would be, so it hadn't been worth the risk, but Evan was there waiting to help him with his luggage after he texted his friend that he would be there shortly.

"The spare room's a little flowery," Evan said as he helped haul Johnny's second suitcase up the stairs, "I had to let my mom decorate one room or she would have tried for the whole house, but it's liveable."

"With the number of hideous hotel rooms we've stayed in over the years," Johnny replied, taking in Evan's house with interest, "I think I can cope."

"Yeah," Evan agreed with a smile. "Oh, if you want to take a shower and freshen up the water's hot."

"Thanks," he said; this was already turning out to be a good stay.

The spare room was indeed just as Evan had described, in fact Johnny had a sneaking suspicion it might actually have been a joke, because no one could like flowers quite that much. Either a joke or revenge he decided when he found poppies on everything on the bedside table.

"I'll be just downstairs," Evan told him after making sure he knew where everything was, "just call if you need anything."

"Will do," he replied and smiled, "thanks."

As soon as Evan left the room, Johnny picked up the towel that had been neatly laid out on the bed and put it to his nose. He was instantly hit by a fresh lavender scent and he knew he was going to enjoy his stay. Evan's place was not quite as spick and span as his own, but it was well on its way. As he began to strip out of his clothes he wondered if Evan would throw a fit if he found himself needing to pledge something during his stay.

"There is a flame war going on on Twitter," Evan said when Johnny finally came downstairs.

He was feeling much more human now that he was clean and refreshed.

"Seems your fans and my fans both think someone hacked our accounts and are accusing each other," Evan added, turning the laptop so Johnny could see.

The first thing Johnny noticed was that the user name was not Evan's usual one.

"You have an account to watch your fans?" he asked, realising what he was seeing.

"Yeah," Evan replied with a grin; "it's a trip."

Johnny could only imagine.

"Maybe we should step in," he said, reading the screen and watching it become even more vicious with every passing second as Evan refreshed the page.

Their fans were wonderful, but sometimes scary people.

"Yeah," Evan agreed with a nod and flicked to another browser, "what should I say?"

Johnny thought about that for a minute and then pulled out his blackberry.

"Don't mention the conflict directly, it'll only rile them up," he decided as he logged on, "just do one of your usuals and name drop me rather than one of those big shots you normally like to hang around with. Then I'll reply."

He gave Evan a grin when his friend looked at him.

"Make sure to spell something wrong so they know it's really you," he added and laughed when Evan gave him the finger.

That didn't stop Evan typing away, however.

"There," Evan said and Johnny refreshed his screen and read the message.

"Having lunch with @JohnnyGWeir," he read aloud, "new beginnings FTW!"

It was short and really quite sweet and Johnny was touched by the sentiment. It was more serious than he had expected and he liked it.

"Mongooses are hospitable, who knew?" he quickly typed. "@EvanLysacek, right back at you!"

Evan gave him a very happy smile for that.

"So, want that lunch I mentioned?" Evan asked and stood up. "They'll need time to digest that."

Johnny nodded, for once he and Evan were in total agreement.

Lunch turned out to be salad, but it had the most delicious dressing on it Johnny had ever tasted and bonus upon bonus, it was a light dressing.

"My mom's recipe," Evan told him as they sat eating; "she keeps coming up with them because she thinks I don't eat."

"You don't," Johnny replied with a shrug, "none of us do, but with things like this we can pretend. Your mom is a genius."

Honestly, Johnny had never thought he would ever say such a thing about Evan's mom; funny how things turned out.

"Well except at decorating spare rooms," he added with a grin, "but I'm still hoping that's a joke."

"Yeah," Evan replied, "it could be, but it's not like I can ask. I just have to suffer in silence and apologise to anyone who stays until she tells me I can change it."

Johnny grinned; their mothers weren't really that much different in one respect it seemed, although he would have just outright asked Patti if she was insane if she'd tried anything with poppies.

"What you need is to get your sister to suggest to your mom that you need to do it up for your nephew so he can come stay when he's a little older," he said, thinking over Evan's problem. "Then you can go to town with race cars and things; anything is better than poppies."

At first Evan looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected Johnny to know about his nephew, and then Evan appeared pleased.

"I think you may be the genius," Evan replied and then they spent the rest of lunch talking about what was and what was not appropriate for a prepubescent boy's bedroom.

"I've decided not to compete the coming season," Johnny said once he was done with the food, putting his fork down and marvelling at just how much he had eaten.

Evan actually appeared shocked.

"You're not retiring though?" Evan asked, sounding almost worried and it made Johnny smile.

"No," he assured his friend, "just taking a year off. With everything that's happened I need time to refocus. I think if I competed this year it might make some of my bad years look good."

Evan nodded along with what he was saying as if he understood the mentality.

"I've been considering retiring," Evan admitted from the other side of the table, "but I decided I couldn't do it; I have more skating left in me."

"You'll show the young whippersnappers how it's done," he replied with a grin.

Neither of them were thirty, or even really close to it, and, yet, in their sport they were almost over the hill. Evan had his Olympic gold, but still wanted to go on skating and Johnny found that he liked that. It would have been so easy to quit on a high and just not bother anymore.

"Come on," he said as Evan took the plates and put them in the dish washer, "we better check the Twitter situation. We don't want world war 3 at our feet."

As it turned out, they were a bit late when it came to stopping the accusations flying. Some people had accepted their notes for what they were, others clearly enjoyed conspiracies.

"Camera phone time," Johnny decided instantly and pulled out his Blackberry.

There was only one way to prove what was actually going on and that was with photographic evidence. Evan looked a little startled when Johnny threw an arm around his shoulders, but smiled and waved at the camera when he took the picture. The first one was hideous, so they did it again, and that one was okay, so he uploaded it.

"Sometimes life gives you a chance to remember you were once friends," he typed, then posted the picture to Twitter.

He hoped it was sufficiently deep to make people actually stop and think, but not too deep to sound pretentious.

"There," he said, showing it to Evan, "that should give them something to talk about."

"You do realise half of them will have us sleeping together in under ten minutes," Evan commented, but he was smiling at the time.

"Yes well," he replied, feeling like being up front about everything just to see, "we can do that later if you like, but right now I know you have a Playstation or an Xbox around here somewhere. I feel like some competition."

The one thing Johnny noted before Evan climbed off the sofa to open a small cabinet was Evan never disagreed.

**End of Ch 3**


	4. Losing Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

**Title:** After Night Comes Dawn 4 of 5  
 **Author:** [](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**beren_writes**](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** Figure Skating RPS  
 **Pairing:** J Weir/S Lambiel, J Weir/E Lysacek, J Weir/S Lambiel/E Lysacek  
 **Rating:** NC17/18  
 **Warnings:** threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language  
 **Summary:** AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

 **Artist:** [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) [Art only post](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/341488.html?mode=reply).

 **Mixer** [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/) [Mix link](http://solookup.livejournal.com/1085785.html)

**Losing Fear**

"So, you and Stéphane," Evan said after they had spent two hours playing mindless video games.

It was about as subtle as a brick through the window, but then Johnny wasn't attracted to Evan for his subtlety.

"Me and Stéphane," he replied with a half smile.

"How long have you two been together?" was the curious question.

They were starting off slow, then, Johnny could deal with that.

"Since Russia," Johnny replied, putting his controller down and giving his full attention to Evan, "just like the rumours would have you believe. I was wandering around in a bit of a daze and managed to forget that I have these feelings for him I've been pretending weren't there and kissed him. It got more serious from there."

Evan looked as if he was digesting that information, while he turned off the game and put his controller down as well.

"Then why me?" Evan finally asked and seemed honestly perplexed.

"I asked him the same question when he asked me why I hadn't jumped you the other night," he replied and smiled at the memory, "but Stéphane's a lot more observant and a lot less vanilla than most people seem to think."

Evan just frowned a little as if he wasn't sure what Johnny was trying to say.

"I love him," Johnny said simply, since he wanted to make sure all the cards were on the table, "and he loves me, but we can't be together all that often. Because I'm a vampire I have certain needs ..."

"So you're interested in me as a stand in?" Evan asked and interrupted what he was trying to say.

Johnny gave Evan a look and he shut up.

"That's not what I'm trying to say," he said as soon as he had Evan's attention back. "We might not know each other well anymore, Evan, but you know me enough to know I don't do casual sex, not since the whole exploratory stage finally quit. When I have sex my heart gets involved."

He couldn't change who he was, didn't want to actually. He liked to flirt and the odd kiss and cuddle was always on the cards, but when it came to sex he always wanted more.

"As Stéphane so eloquently pointed out, both he and I find you very attractive," he continued with a smile, "and, unless I was reading it all wrong the other night, you are attracted to me at least."

Evan gave a small nod and showed that at least he wasn't in denial.

"Now," Johnny told him, "if sex is going to mess up everything between us, I don't want it; I'd rather have you as a friend, because I remember when we actually liked each other and it was fun. However, if you're interested, and that means in me and Stéphane, because he can be a possessive bitch, then I think we could have more than friendship. And before you ask, no I don't expect us to come out as the next perfect couple with a twist."

Evan managed a real smile at that.

"So you're suggesting a threesome as a long term relationship," Evan said after a few moments.

"Or just friends," Johnny said, wanting to make himself perfectly clear, "without benefits."

He knew by now that his vampire nature increased rather than decreased some of his more focused character traits, so it wasn't as if he had much choice. He was far too aware of how his mind worked to not put this in simple terms.

"And we could turn the X-box back on and just bro around and you'd be fine with it?" Evan asked and Johnny tried not to feel let down.

"I'd be a little bit disappointed," he admitted, since it would probably show on his face anyway, "but, yes, I'd rather that than things getting awkward."

To his credit, Evan did seem to be thinking everything through, which was really what was required.

"What about the whole vampire thing?" Evan asked in what Johnny thought was a far too logical tone for the conversation they were actually having.

"Oh, he's been in lust with you since the moment he clapped eyes on you," Johnny replied with a somewhat fake smile, "and he's even more possessive than Stéphane, so be warned."

He didn't usually talk about himself, even that part of himself, in the third person, but it got his message across.

"Long distance relationships are hard," Evan pointed out.

"Tell me about it," Johnny said and threw his arms in the air; "you should see my phone bill even with the ridiculously low tariff Tara found for me."

That wasn't quite what Evan had meant and they both knew it, but it was illustrative of the issues.

"I haven't been in a real relationship since Tanith," Evan suddenly revealed, much to Johnny surprise, "all the others have been more because my agent told me I needed to be seen with someone."

It was not a confession Johnny had been expecting at all, but it did explain quite a lot about the length of some of Evan's entanglements.

"One thing at least I don't have to worry about," Johnny said and gave Evan a smile of sympathy.

"Yeah and I'm fed up of it," Evan said with a shrug; "I think I'm lonely."

Now that Johnny understood all too well; he had felt that way too sometimes, before Stéphane.

"You could go out and look for a guy or girl that could make this less complicated for you," he suggested gently, "a real, normal relationship."

That was when Evan looked at him directly in the eyes and he saw so many emotions there.

"Only skaters understand skaters," Evan said after a few moments, "no one else does, at least no one else ever understands me. Tanith did, but we fucked that up."

"We could end up competing against each other," Johnny pointed out, but he wasn't trying very hard.

"Then I'll cheer for you and you can cheer for me and we'll be happy whoever wins," Evan said and sounded as if he had just made up his mind.

Johnny couldn't help smiling; it was just what he wanted to hear.

"Want to test out if there's really chemistry there?" he asked, deciding that he had been upfront so far, so he might as well continue.

Evan blushed a little at that, but did smile.

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm sixteen again?" was the slightly embarrassed question.

"That was the last time we kissed?" Johnny offered and gave his companion a very mischievous little smile.

There had been quite a lot of experimentation going on with hormonal teenagers around that time and they had actually kissed a couple of times. That was before Evan had decided girls were so much easier. Johnny remembered being disappointed, because there had been a spark there.

"How do you suggest we see if this is worth the effort?" Evan asked, finally looking him in the eye.

Johnny slid off his end of the couch and deliberately slinked towards Evan, climbing back on so that he was straddling Evan's taller frame.

"Like the song says," he said and licked his lips; "it's in his kiss."

Evan's hands felt warm and large as they settled on his waist and he took that as acceptance, leaning forward and placing his lips gently on Evan's. It was nothing like when they were teenagers, that much was for sure, as Evan responded very directly. Evan pulled him closer and deepened the kiss and Johnny found a tongue almost instantly questing into his mouth. He reciprocated and the kiss became one hot battle of passion and need and Johnny felt that tingly feeling start at the top of his head and rush down his spine as his whole system came to life. He was going to have to buy Stéphane a whole boatload of chocolate, because this had been a fantastic idea.

Not only did Evan kiss well, he smelled wonderful. It wasn't something Johnny could quite pin down as one thing, but the combination of Evan's deodorant and Evan himself was delicious in a way that Johnny usually associated with Stéphane. He had never thought he was really interested in scent, other than the obvious that someone didn't smell like week old fish or the like, but he was beginning to realise that it must have been something he did unconsciously that was now more obvious to him. He even broke the kiss and nibbled down Evan's neck just so he could stick his nose against Evan's skin. It was wonderful.

He was ready to move back up and go with kissing again when there was the trill sound of an mp3 being blared from very small speakers and he felt Evan tense. Pulling back slightly, he saw the torn look in Evan's eyes, tinged with an edge of panic. He sighed.

"Go on then," he said, climbing off, "answer it. I know that look; you don't want to stop, but if you don't answer it your OCD will kick in and it'll be all you can think about."

Evan looked amazed at the understanding.

"I'm exactly the same," Johnny admitted as Evan reached for the phone sitting on the coffee table.

It did give Johnny a chance to take in Evan's dishevelled state and the large bulge in Evan's jeans made all sorts of promises for later.

"Hi, Yuki," he heard Evan say, "what's up?"

Evan's hair was sticking up at delightful angles and his lips were red from all the kissing; Johnny was very pleased with himself.

"Yes we saw what was going on on Twitter," Evan said and Johnny actually began paying attention to the conversation rather than just Evan. "What? About two hours ago, why?"

Sounded like something interesting had happened.

"Oh, really, we're trending?" Evan sounded so delightfully shocked and Johnny was quite surprised as well. "No, we've been playing on the X-box."

It sounded as if their photo was bigger news than expected and Johnny fetched Evan's laptop from the side when he saw Evan glance at it. Evan mouthed thanks at him, but it was clear Evan was trying to pay attention to what his agent was telling him. Johnny looked at his own phone and saw a message from Tara.

>   
>  _Nice bit of publicity there; making the most of it, will talk to you later. Tara_   
> 

Johnny smiled; clearly his agent and Evan's had very different approaches, like their personalities really. If Tara was happy, so was he, so he decided to speed Evan's conversation along just a little bit. He was well aware that Evan was a contentious control freak so there was no way his soon-to-be lover would just dump the call, but Johnny was pretty sure he could shorten it considerably. Leaning forward, he put his lips next to Evan's free ear.

"I'll be upstairs," he all but breathed rather than said, "waiting."

Then he stood up, noting that Evan's eyes were firmly on him and sauntered to the stairs. At the bottom he shrugged off his shirt and threw it leisurely over the banister, before walking slowly up the stairs.

"What? Sorry, I missed that," he heard Evan say and he smiled to himself.

He was pretty sure that Evan would be following him shortly, so he walked into his room and began to prepare. The first thing he did was strip out of his remaining clothes and he did ponder flinging them off as if he had been in a fit of passion, but ended up folding them. The shirt was as far as he was willing to go for that part of the game. Once he was naked, he riffled around in his suitcase to find the little bag of essentials he tended to carry everywhere, just in case. He put the lube and the condoms on the bed side table before pulling the top sheets back from the bed to a rather jaunty angle and climbing into the space he had made. Carefully arranging himself, he settled in comfortably to wait.

It was only a few minutes before he heard footsteps on the stairs and then Evan was in the doorway.

"Yuki just ..." Evan trailed off in a way that was very satisfying to Johnny's ego.

Johnny smiled and batted his eyelashes at Evan. He counted the seconds off in his head as Evan just stood there and it was highly amusing.

"While I never argue with someone looking at me in quite the way you are," he said eventually, "I would like to remind you, you are allowed to touch."

As if released from some sort of stasis field Evan launched into motion and Johnny was reminded of just how much poise and balance it took to be a figure skater, as well as flexibility, as Evan managed to remove all of his clothes, including his socks between the door and the bed. There was a reason Evan had a gold medal and Johnny could see it in his eyes then; when Evan wanted something, it seemed, he went for it. Johnny found himself all but pinned to the bed, being kissed all over again, only this time there was plenty of skin on skin. He had already been hard just anticipating what was to come, but, as Evan rubbed against him, he moaned in pleasure. It was heady and hot and, for a while, completely out of control, but eventually Evan had to go up for air, at which point Johnny decided to take charge.

Given Evan's own confessions, he was pretty sure Evan was light on the experience of sex with men front, so he wanted to make sure nothing went too fast. Holding Evan's face between his hands, he refused to let his lover dive straight back in.

"What do you want?" he asked simply.

He was prepared for anything, so it was up to Evan to choose. Surprisingly, Evan did not hesitate and there was no sign of not having thought it through at all.

"You, inside me, now," was the very direct reply.

That hadn't really been how Johnny had imagined this going; he'd rather expected it to be the other way round. Not that Evan's straightforward demand didn't send messages straight to his cock; it definitely had the desired effect as his penis jumped at the very thought.

"You've done this before?" he asked, since he could see no nervousness in Evan's face and first timers didn't tend to be that laid back.

"Once," Evan admitted, "but that was a very long time ago."

That made Evan's request a little odder.

"But," Evan continued speaking before Johnny could ask, "I like toys. So, um, yeah, no problem on that score."

"Ooh," Johnny said with a grin, "kinky; I like."

He lifted his head and kissed Evan again; this was going to be fun. Before they finished the kiss, he slipped his leg over Evan and then flipped them, so they came to rest with him on top and then he continued where they had left off. He could feel Evan's body beneath him, all muscle and strength and he loved it, especially since Evan was surrendering to him. Johnny was equally happy in bed as a top or a bottom; he loved both positions for different reasons and he was pretty sure he could get Evan to top him later, but right then he revelled in the knowledge that Evan's body was his to plunder.

As he rolled one between his finger tips, he noted that Evan had very sensitive nipples; something well worth investigating at a later date, but he was more interested in the direct approach. Grabbing things off the bedside table with one hand and throwing then to the side within easy reach, he shimmied down the bed. Evan's cock was hard and long and almost purple with blood at the head where a bead of precum was smeared down the slit. By the looks of things, Evan was very, very aroused and Johnny couldn't help the delighted smile that emerged onto his face.

"My, my," he said, licking his lips, "aren't we a big boy."

He didn't give Evan much time to reply, however, as he wrapped his lips around that engorged head.

"Holy shit," was Evan's immediate response as Johnny ran his tongue over the sensitive flesh and tasted his new lover for the first time.

What came next happened more by accident than judgement as his vampire nature rose towards the surface, not the whole way, but far enough so that his senses enhanced. As he tasted, he assigned Evan to the memory part of himself that only the vampire possessed, recording the sense memory in a way humans had mostly long since lost. He had learned Stéphane this way already, taking in every part of his Swiss lover, and now he had to learn Evan. It would take time, days probably, but he would do it and he looked up at Evan through his long lashes as he sucked on his current prize.

There was only a flicker, but he saw it as it crossed Evan's face and he realised his other half must have been showing more than he expected. What he saw was fear and that was unacceptable. He pulled off instantly and carefully climbed back up the bed until he was eye to eye with Evan; then he let his vampire rise to the surface completely.

"I will never hurt you," he said slowly and carefully, making sure Evan could see all that he was, "you need to know that."

Evan just looked at him for long seconds.

"Will you bite me?" Evan eventually asked, face all but blank of expression.

"Only if you let me," Johnny replied, because he wanted to; he could feel the want building, but he would never let that need out if it bothered Evan.

The silent staring went on for another few seconds after that.

"I want you to," was the whispered reply.

Only then did Johnny begin to breathe again properly and he let his vampire nature fade away.

"We'll get to that," he promised with a small smile, "but I was busy."

Then he shimmied down the bed again and without further ado took Evan back into his mouth. He had every intention of playing a while, just to find out where Evan's limits were and then he had other plans. Since Evan had liked it so much before, he used his tongue for a while, licking and using the flexible muscle to tease Evan's cock for as long as possible. Evan made some very interesting noises, but only when Johnny employed some sucking as well did they turn completely incoherent. It was fun and more than a little arousing to be able to do that to his lover and Johnny enjoyed it even more when he took Evan's cock in as far as he could, bobbing his head a little and the sounds Evan was making turned rather pleading.

He wasn't actually trying to torture Evan, so he relented a little, but he did rather enjoy having his rival at his mercy, even though they were past that little hurdle. Only when he thought Evan might actually come did he finally pull back completely and gave his lover a very self-satisfied grin. Evan looked back at him and then flopped his head back on the pillow and made a desperate kind of resigned noise.

"Don't worry, Mongoose," he said, flavouring the old nickname with a new warmth, "I'll let you come, once my snake is buried deep in your desperate body that is."

Evan just whimpered and Johnny took that as encouragement.

When he reached for the lube, Evan was clearly still paying attention, because he lifted one leg, revealing just what Johnny was after. Toys and cocks weren't always the same thing, what with the myriad of shapes and sizes available in the toy department, but when he finally slid a finger in to test the waters, so to speak, Evan opened up for him easily. In fact it seemed that Evan was so eager and ready that it took no time at all to prepare him and before Johnny knew it he was kneeling up and reaching for one of the condoms.

The fact that he was likely to end up biting Evan did cross him mind, but certain safety precautions were second nature in modern life. He saw what he suspected was the same thought go through Evan's head, but Evan didn't try to stop him. He rolled the condom on and then surveyed his prize.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked, since he wanted to fulfil whatever desires Evan had in his head. "On you back or on your knees?"

"On my knees," Evan said, voice thick with arousal.

Johnny moved back and gave Evan some space, since the idea sent thrills all over his body. It was clear that Evan had a scenario in his head, probably a long held fantasy if Johnny was any judge, and he was not about to spoil it. As soon as Evan was settled, legs apart, back straight, head down, Johnny moved in, running his hands all over Evan's lower back and thighs. It really was a beautiful view.

"How long have you wanted this?" he asked, finding his curiosity piqued and needing to know.

"Too long," was Evan's breathy response, "and you have no idea how I hated myself for it for a while."

Johnny knew all about wanting things you weren't allowed to have, so he didn't push.

"No more hating," he said, slicking up his cock while running the fingers of his other hand down over Evan's already slick entrance, "no more hating, ever."

Then he carefully lined up and began to push in. It was clear almost immediately that although Evan was used to things up his ass, he was used to being in control of them and Johnny had to pause while Evan adjusted.

"Okay?" he asked just to make sure.

"Yeah," Evan replied, "really, yeah."

Evan's voice was so full of desire that Johnny lost all worries that he might actually be hurting his lover and he pushed in slowly. He did not try for all the way, but went as deep as he dared and then pulled back a little, just letting Evan get used to the intrusion, rocking his hips forward again slowly and gently. Evan was tight around him, clearly not used to something moving this much, which led to a whole load of questions in Johnny's mind that he had to put aside, and Johnny had to breathe deeply to keep himself calm and in control. He did not want to hurt Evan and so he continued to move slowly until Evan loosened up more around him, gradually taking more and more of him with each push forward.

He had been dreaming about this since their encounter in L.A., or at least versions of the same scenario, and now that he had it, it was rather amazing. Evan was under him, spread for him, moaning and making the most delicious noises with every move he made, and it fed both of his aspects. When he had told Evan that his heart always got in the way he hadn't been kidding and it was true now, even more so. He could feel the possessive vampire need moving under the surface and it only pushed his human needs closer to the surface. He wanted to take everything from Evan and give everything to him and he could not help thinking about Stéphane as well.

As he increased his pace and the depth of his thrusts, his mind filled with what was actually happening and the strangely complete memories he had of similar moments with Stéphane. He had been a little afraid that, even with Stéphane's permission and encouragement, it would feel a little like cheating, but it was nothing like that. He so very much wanted them all to come together and he had to concentrate extremely hard not to be dragged into the concept inside his mind.

His vampire demanded to be let out and he did not have the will to stop it. As soon as he allowed it, he felt the power of the creature inside him and his senses became sharper and his muscles stronger. He had to bring his movements to a halt to make sure he did not hurt Evan and he paused, buried deep within his lover.

"Come here," he said, winding his arms around Evan's chest and carefully pulling Evan into a full kneeling position.

It was not the easiest of angles, but he was a lot stronger in his vampire form and thrusting his hips was not difficult.

"Oh god," Evan said at the new angle and Johnny snaked one hand down to wrap around Evan's neglected cock.

It would not take long; he knew that without a doubt and he pushed Evan on before his own control failed him. Evan was crying out with every thrust Johnny made now, not cries of pain, but of need and desire, and he could feel that his lover was teetering on the edge.

"Johnny," Evan said in a broken breathless tone and then Evan came, clenching around him and shooting creamy liquid onto the bed sheets.

It made his nerves rattle as his cock was squeezed in Evan's ass, but he refused to let go himself. He did not want to bite Evan in desperation; he wanted it to be deliberate and recognised for what it was and he rode out Evan's orgasm, holding on tightly. Only when Evan became relaxed in his arms did he slowly pull out, feeling Evan wince as the tender nature of the act, before gently helping his lover to lay down on the other half of the bed.

Evan looked dazed and spent as Johnny slowly straddled him, but their eyes met. He saw recognition and knowledge in Evan's gaze and when Evan turned his head to the side, exposing his long neck, he knew he had been understood. Johnny leant down over his lover, careful to align their bodies without squashing anything that might be tender and he slowly licked the side of Evan's neck. Evan whimpered quietly, the sound of a man who had been thoroughly fucked and was over sensitive, and Johnny revelled in it. It never even occurred to him not to open his mouth and bite down, but he definitely was not expecting what happened after that.

Johnny felt the pleasure burst into him, and through him into Evan and then Evan was rearing up underneath him, almost bucking him off as Evan's whole body reacted. There was a cry, but it seemed stuck in Evan's throat and Johnny felt himself pushed over the edge into the orgasm he had been holding off as the blood set his system alight. It was honestly mind blowing, but, as soon as he felt Evan sink back to the bed, he stopped drinking and drew back, eyes closed and enjoying the high for a few moments. There really was nothing like blood, and blood and sex were the best combination in the whole world.

It was only as he looked down at Evan, expecting to see a very dazed expression looking back at him that he realised something was wrong. Evan was not moving and his eyes were closed and his head was turned to one side; Johnny almost panicked, but he could see the pulse in Evan's neck, he could feel the heartbeat running through his lover. Evan was not dead, but he did not seem to be conscious and Johnny climbed off his lover quickly.

"Evan," he said gently, but there was no response; Evan seemed to be out cold.

Johnny didn't know a whole lot about first aid, but he did remember something about cool things. He ran to the bathroom, dunked a wash cloth under the cold water and then ran back to the bedroom. When he first touched Evan with it there was the faintest of twitches, so he very carefully washed Evan with it all over. Eventually there was a groan and Evan slowly opened his eyes.

"Hi," Johnny said, not sure what else to say, "are you feeling okay?"

He honestly had no idea why Evan had fainted, Stéphane had never done anything like that.

"Wow," was what Evan eventually said, "that was ... that was pleasure overload."

That was not what Johnny had been expecting to hear at all.

"Pleasure?" he asked, since it sounded like a bad romance novel.

Evan had the gall to smile at him.

"Yeah," was the cheerful response, "oh god, I never ... mind blowing."

Johnny swiped at Evan's arm.

"Bastard," he said, even though it wasn't really Evan's fault; "you almost gave me a heart attack. Do you faint a lot?"

Evan just grinned at him.

"Only for you," was the totally unrepentant reply.

It was nice for his ego, but he was screwed, he really was, because there was no way he was ever going to be able to resist Evan, not ever.

  


  


  


Johnny had stayed with Evan for three days and they had had to fend off paparazzi each day once the Twitter thing had hit the rest of the news. Outside the house they had pretended to be friends who bro-ed around when they weren't off in completely different parts of the city; inside they had mostly in bed, although they had remembered to eat most of the time. Johnny had enjoyed his entire stay, but of course he had had to go home and get on with all his other commitments. As it turned out, Evan might have been on the same continent, but it didn't make it a whole lot easier to see each other and Johnny ended up with two numbers on his low rate tariff. He did get to see Evan occasionally though. Then of course he made the big announcement about not competing during the coming season.

Having told the world that he was taking time off to reinvent his skating and re-examine his life, that's what Johnny did and he decided it was time to take charge. Johnny Weir was back with a vengeance and for a little while it was impossible to turn on the TV or open a paper without seeing him somewhere. Then with his career back on track he decided to make sure nothing else could be a problem either. With their schedules he, Evan and Stéphane had to plan months in advance, but when Stéphane called and said he was unexpectedly free in three weeks time, Johnny called Evan and managed to arrange a weekend where they could all finally be in the same place at the same time.

It was as he started planning what they could do that he began to feel the unease. Something had shifted in him over time and his confidence was back and with it came some rather unexpected instincts. He was territorial for a start. He'd always liked to have his own space, but he found himself paying far more attention to the people who were around him and when he almost threw out a delivery guy he realised he was dealing with more than simple paranoia.

When he started to sense other vampires, he decided it was time to ask for advice. He'd been emailing with Yuri on and off since he had returned home and he didn't really understand what was going on.

>   
>  _Yuri,_   
> 

>   
>  _Are vampires attracted to each other, could I be drawing others to me? I've started to feel others, but I didn't before, it's only just begun to happen._   
> 

>   
>  _Thanks,  
>  Johnny_   
> 

It took Yuri precisely two hours to respond.

>   
>  _Johnny,_   
> 

>   
>  _I have not heard of vampires being drawn to each other, the opposite is usually true. Vampires create a territory and only allow their own vampire children within it. Some of the old vampires occupy an entire city with all the others in their domain being their creations. Moscow is such a city. In America I do not think the bloodlines are powerful enough for such a thing. It may be your abilities are simply developing to allow you to sense others. They may be no closer than before._   
> 

>   
>  _Your friend,  
>  Yuri _   
> 

That wasn't overly settling.

>   
>  _I don't like it. How can I be sure?  
>  Johnny _   
> 

He definitely did not want to spend every day paranoid.

>   
>  _My friend,_   
> 

>   
>  _If you can I would suggest you avoid interaction with the vampire population. Your bloodline is stronger, as the encounter in L.A. showed, but you do not wish to draw attention to yourself. If you meet another vampire do not back down, you are stronger and news travels fast among the blood suckers, but I would recommend you avoid all contact. Try not to worry about those you feel unless they come too close._   
> 

>   
>  _Yuri_   
> 

It was good advice, not that it solved the problem.

>   
>  _Thanks. J_   
> 

Johnny did his very best to follow Yuri's advice as well and managed it for a week, but the feelings of the others would not go away. He stared to wake up from vivid dreams, nightmares really, in which there was blood and fighting and other things that made his heart pound and further sleep impossible. Eventually he woke up after only an hour of sleep and that was it; he decided he had to find out just what it meant, because it was driving him crazy. He chose an all black workout outfit that he hadn't used in a while, a black beanie and a pair of glasses that hid half his face, but weren't particularly dark, so he could easily see through them. Then he climbed into his car and started to drive, following his nose towards what he could feel. The closer he came, the more territorial he began to feel and, by the time he pulled into a virtually empty parking lot, he was more acting than he was thinking.

He wasn't really sure where he was, he hadn't been paying much attention, but he was somewhere with a lot of what looked like warehouse buildings. All he was concerned about was the fact that it was too close to his home for comfort. It honestly didn't occur to him that what he was about to do was incredibly dangerous, he no longer had any choice about it. The original plan had just been to look, but the original plan was long forgotten by that point.

Walking quickly, he entered one of the warehouses and headed towards the back of the building where he found a locked door. Without thinking twice, he let his vampire nature come out and the lock crumbled under a single blow. As soon as he allowed his body to take on its alternative form everything around him was suddenly much more intense, including the feeling of the vampire above him. Using instincts he had never tried before, he catalogued everything his senses were telling him. A small part of him realised it was strange that he was on the offensive, but the rest of him was just getting on with it. He took the stairs behind the door three at a time and walked out into what was a sparsely furnished, but well kept room.

"Fuck off or die," was the greetings from the only occupant.

The vampire was sitting in an arm chair, his face covered in blood and there was the body of a girl on plastic sheeting in front of the chair. She was very dead, Johnny could tell, even from a distance and all of his attention was firmly on the killer.

"I do not think so, Мудак," he said in his best Russian accent, "this is my territory now and I am cleaning house. You will be leaving."

"Fuck that," was the instant response and thus began Johnny's attempt to remove all pests from his neighbourhood.

>   
>  _Yuri,_   
> 

>   
>  _American vampires are morons. You were right, they aren't closer, but I can still feel them._   
> 

>   
>  _Johnny_   
> 

Out of three he had tracked down that night, one had run and the other two had refused and he had been forced to kill them. He did not like killing, but when given no choice he found he had it in him to destroy the monsters that threatened the people around his home. In the end it took him a week to clear out a twenty mile radius around his apartment, at the end of which the vampires were doing more running than fighting. He was quite pleased with himself and feeling much more settled when he received another email from Yuri.

>   
>  _Johnny My Friend,_   
> 

>   
>  _I have been hearing many things on the grapevine that I think you may wish to know. We have had enquiries from America asking if one of ours has decided to change continents. It seems there are rumours of a big Russian vampire carving out a territory in New Jersey. The local hunters wish to know what they are up against. I have heard Michal swearing about amateurs._   
> 

Johnny smiled to himself even as the news surprised him. That Yuri knew it was him was not the part that was a surprise, that the local hunters were involved and thought he was some big shot from Russia was what had his attention.

>   
>  _Perhaps it is time you introduced yourself. I do not think they will believe us if we tell them it is an American Figure Skater who wishes to have a peaceful neighbourhood. I have included an address where you will be able to make contact._   
> 

>   
>  _I see you did not take my advice, but I think perhaps, given what I have heard, I was wrong._   
> 

>   
>  _I am impressed,  
>  Yuri_   
> 

Yuri's reaction meant a lot to him and he read the address at the bottom of the email with interest.

>   
>  _I couldn't just let it go. I tried to run them out, but I meant what I said last time, vampires are real idiots and they don't seem to listen without violence. If they ran I let them go to spread the word and I think my Russian accent is getting better by the day._   
> 

>   
>  _Thank you,  
>  Johnny_   
> 

After writing back, he rang Tara, changed a few appointments and made some plans for the next day, which was why he found himself standing outside a nondescript apartment building in New York wondering exactly how he was going to do this. The address Yuri had given him was not what Yuri had described as a hunter's base, but it was somewhere one or more of them could be found. It seemed the hunters from New York handled the groups in a very wide area, so Yuri had sent him to the top man. He had dressed down in that he was not wearing anything designer or flashy and he had a hat on that was covering his usually flamboyant hair.

After a few more minutes thought, he walked in and headed over to the elevator. Reaching the correct floor was easy and then he walked down the clean, tidy hallway to the completely average apartment door. He rang the bell and waited. The woman who opened the door was perfectly ordinary as far as New Yorkers went and gave him a very cool look. She was wearing designer jeans and a knock off blouse, he could tell a mile away.

"Can I help you?" she asked in tones that could have made the arctic seem warm; typical New Yorker really.

"I'd like to see Philip Drayson please," he said simply, giving her a smile for good measure; "Yuri Petranov gave me your address."

The woman's demeanour changed instantly; it became icier.

"Why?" she demanded somehow seeming to fill the doorway even though she was short and slim.

"We have things to discus," he replied, refusing to back down in the slightest.

"Like what?" asked a very male voice and a man appeared behind the woman.

The way hostility was coming off the newcomer reminded Johnny a little of Anton.

"Russian vampires," he said bluntly, because he didn't think beating around the bush would do any of them any good.

That earned him a surprised look, clearly hunters did not go around talking about vampires in hallways. The man tapped the woman on the shoulder and they parted so he could enter the apartment. It was not the most comfortable of welcomes, but he'd had worse in his time. After dealing with Figure Skating officials for years the hunters were nothing.

"And you are?" a third voice asked as he walked in and he was faced with an older man.

"Johnny Weir," he said without hesitation, "are you Philip Drayson?"

"The halfbreed," was the instant and unhelpful response.

"Nice to meet you too," he replied in his best sarcastic tone.

He wasn't surprised the man knew who he was, but he wasn't overly fond of the term the man used in such a derogatory fashion.

"What do you want?" was the unrepentant reply.

"Well I was going to talk to you about Russian vampires, but if you're going to be insulting I'll just leave," he said and turned on his heel.

The front door was already closed and the woman drew a hand gun from the back of her waistband.

"That will barely slow me down," he said pointedly, "and blood's really hard to get out of cream carpet. Plus if you do, somehow, manage to stop me leaving, my agent knows exactly where I am and will be quite happy to broadcast this address far and wide. Now get out of my way."

He did not like rude people and there was absolutely no reason for them to treat him like they were.

"Wait," the man he thought was Drayson said from behind him.

"Why should I bother?" he asked pointedly; he'd get Yuri to email them when he got home.

The man gave him a very appraising look.

"I apologise," the man said eventually, "I am Philip Drayson. When you have been doing this for a certain number of years you become hard wired to react in a certain way to all things vampire. Please, come and sit down."

It sounded like a sincere apology and the woman had started putting her gun away at the second word. He waited a few seconds, but he really didn't want these people as enemies.

"Apology accepted," he said with a small nod and walked over to take a seat on the end of the rather nice couch.

"You mentioned Russian vampires," Drayson said as the other two took up positions on either side of the room.

Johnny did not feel relaxed, but he tried to look it never the less.

"Yuri emailed me and mentioned that you were trying to find out about the rumours of a Russian vampire moving into New Jersey," he said as he sat back in his seat.

"The local blood suckers are talking about it," the woman said, "they're afraid to go to quite a large area. Something has been on a killing spree."

"Vampires don't tend to emigrate," Drayson added, "but the word is that there is a Russian moving in and clearing out the weaker bloodlines."

That was exactly what Johnny had been hoping the vampire population would think, what he hadn't realised is that it would get back to the hunters.

"Could the Russian be looking for you?" the other man asked.

Not a possible conclusion Johnny had considered, but now that he thought about it, it could have been a sensible one. The hunters clearly didn't think of him as any type of threat to other vampires.

"The Russian is me," he said, giving them an example of his Russian accent, and rather enjoyed the startled and then disbelieving look Drayson gave him.

"You?" was the incredulous question.

"Me," Johnny replied with a nod. "I didn't like the neighbours."

The hunters clearly thought something was not right and it annoyed him a little; just because he looked harmless didn't mean he was.

"I'm sorry," Drayson said, clearly trying to think of some way to get round what Johnny had said, "but what possessed you to even try something like that."

It was at least a valid question.

"I've found myself becoming more and more protective of my home," he said, deciding that honesty was the best policy, "and I could feel the others out there. I'm more of a peace and love person, but eventually I couldn't stand it anymore, so I went after them, tried to chase them off, but they're dumb and half of them seemed to want to be dead. I didn't want anyone to trace me back so I pretended to be Russian."

He was not about to mention his protectiveness seemed to have a lot to do with both of his lovers being due. His need to make sure his lovers were safe seemed to far outweigh his more peaceful nature. He folded his hands in his lap and waited for Drayson's response.

"From the rumours we have heard you have done a very thorough job," Drayson said eventually, "have you ever thought of becoming a hunter?"

That wasn't quite where he had expected the conversation to go and it made him think. It didn't take him long to realise the truth, however.

"I don't like killing," he said simply, "even when they are murderous little shits who deserve everything they get. I think it's best for all of us that it stays that way. I will protect my home and those close to it, but that's as far as it goes."

"But you could save so many lives," the woman pointed out, totally missing his reasoning.

Johnny gave her a cold smile.

"And what happens if I get to like it?" he asked bluntly. "I'm walking a fine line here; I have urges you couldn't possibly understand, I know because I never would have guessed. You do not want me on the other side of that line and I definitely don't want to find out what it's like. I only did this because I had to."

The cross kept him human enough, but he did not want to push it. Part of him had enjoyed the killing even as it horrified the rest of him and he definitely did not want that part to grow. There was a vampire inside of him, it was caged and hobbled, but he was not about to give it a chance to get out.

"You don't mince your words, Mr Weir," Drayson said eventually.

"Johnny," he corrected, he found 'Mr Weir' far too formal, "and I find it saves time."

Drayson smiled at him for that.

"I like that in a man," the hunter said and slowly stood up. "I see your point about your career choices, however, I would ask a favour."

"I'm listening," he replied, not willing to reject the man out of hand.

"You have advantages we do not," Drayson said, looking him directly in the eyes, "and occasionally there are situations which risk a great many lives, because we have to go in blind. Your abilities would reduce the risk considerably in those unusual circumstances. If on those rare occasions we were to ask for your help to gather intelligence, would you consider it?"

That was an angle he had not thought about and Johnny ran the idea over in his mind. Then he slipped his hand into his bag and pulled out one of his business cards and held it out.

"I'd consider it," he accepted with a nod.

He'd probably be on a different continent when they needed him, but he was all for saving lives and they weren't asking him to kill.

Drayson took the card and then held out his hand.

"Thank you, Johnny," the man said and appeared to genuinely mean it, "I hope we do not have need of each other too often."

Johnny stood and shook the man's hand; their meeting was over.

"Agreed," he said and gave a small smile.

"I will send you a number should you need to contact us in a hurry," Drayson told him as they walked towards the door together. "We will concentrate our efforts outside your territory, but if you need us we will be there to help."

It sounded strange hearing someone else call it his territory, but after all, that's what it was and he had never been one for letting the housekeeping go.

"Thank you," he replied, quite surprised by how amicable the meeting had turned out to be; "let's hope I don't need to use that either."

It was only after he had been seen out and was walking down the street that he realised he had never been introduced to the other two hunters. He was pretty sure he was never going to get used to the cloak and dagger games.

**End of Chapter 4**


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

**Title:** After Night Comes Dawn 5 of 5  
 **Author:** [](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**beren_writes**](http://beren-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** Figure Skating RPS  
 **Pairing:** J Weir/S Lambiel, J Weir/E Lysacek, J Weir/S Lambiel/E Lysacek  
 **Rating:** NC17/18  
 **Warnings:** threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language  
 **Summary:** AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.

 **Artist:** [](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/profile)[**beadslut**](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/) [Art only post](http://beadslut.livejournal.com/341488.html?mode=reply).

 **Mixer** [](http://solookup.livejournal.com/profile)[**solookup**](http://solookup.livejournal.com/) [Mix link](http://solookup.livejournal.com/1085785.html)

  


**Epilogue**

For the sake of fans and anyone else who might be looking, Evan was staying at a hotel and Johnny, Stéphane and he were thinking of putting on an ice show together. Stéphane was of course staying with Johnny during these negotiations and the three were taking some time off to relax as well. In reality half of Evan's luggage was delivered to his hotel room, while he, Johnny, Stéphane and the rest of his things went to Johnny's place. Johnny was halfway into Evan's clothes and Stéphane was into his before they had made it all the way into the apartment.

It had been way too long and Johnny's hormones were on overdrive. He hadn't seen Evan or Stéphane in nearly two months and his vampire nature had some very demanding needs, which, added to the fact that he'd missed both of them like crazy, meant he wasn't thinking overly hard. He wanted both of them as soon as physically possible.

The fact that Stéphane and Evan hadn't actually been in this position together before didn't seem to be an issue, because both of them were responding with equal enthusiasm.

"That is so unfair," said a very familiar voice just as he had managed to undo the ridiculous buckle Evan had on his belt.

All three of them froze and Johnny looked up to see Paris standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

"Paris, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, probably a little more harshly than he would normally have done, after all he had given Paris a key.

"Borrowing this jacket," Paris said as he held up the aforementioned garment; "you know, the one you've been telling me I can borrow for the last three days and keep forgetting. I thought you were supposed to be at a meeting."

That was what he'd told everyone since he hadn't broken the truth to his friends yet. He and Paris had a very good system for making sure they did not walk in on things they weren't supposed to, since they both had keys to the other's place, but that fell down when there were secrets.

"Meeting was put off," Johnny said and didn't bother hiding quite how desperate he was.

"I cannot believe that, first, you didn't tell me," Paris complained, putting his hand on his hip, "and, second, you're hogging two of the best looking guys all to yourself."

There was even a pout.

"I was going to tell you," he replied instantly, "why do you think I told you that you couldn’t bring anyone to the party tomorrow night?"

There was going to be an exclusive gathering of friends he knew he could trust the next evening so Johnny could introduce Evan and Stéphane as more than his friends. It had seemed the best way to go about it. He might not be about to tell them about the vampire thing, but that didn't mean he was hiding everything. His explanation brightened Paris' expression somewhat, which was good, but his friend was still standing there.

"Not going to share though?" was the petulant comeback.

"Out," was all he said very firmly.

"No fair," Paris wailed, but did have the sense to start walking. "I may have to downgrade you to second best friend."

Johnny threw a cushion at Paris' retreating back. Then he looked down to where his hand was still just beginning to disappear into Evan's pants.

"Bye, Bitch, have fun," was Paris' final comment and as soon as the door slammed, Johnny began to move again.

For once he really didn't care about clothing either, and, given the way garments were flying left and right, neither did Stéphane or Evan.

"I fear, Mon Amour," Stéphane said breathlessly, after they had both divested Evan of his jeans in a rather elegant joint effort, "that I have been dreaming about this for too long. I seem to be most impulsive."

At which point Johnny found himself all but yanked out of his leggings. It was the kind of act that required reciprocation and he glanced at Evan and then they both pounced on Stéphane, who was still wearing far too many clothes. It didn't take them much longer before they were all stumbling naked onto the couch and then Johnny rather lost track of things for a while in the mess of hands, mouths and skin on skin that was happening. It didn't matter who was touching who or how, just as long as touching was happening and Johnny let himself go for several minutes.

He only really started to think again when he realised that at some point he'd moved behind Stéphane and that Stéphane and Evan were now kissing each other hungrily. This was new and so incredibly hot that it definitely caught Johnny’s attention in a very direct way and he stopped moving. He was captivated.

Unfortunately, Stéphane noticed he had stopped moving and promptly stopped kissing Evan and turned to him with a small frown.

"Something wrong, Mon Amour?" Stéphane asked, even though his hands were still wandering over Evan.

"God no," Johnny replied and then grinned, "don't stop on my account."

"I think he wants to watch," Evan said and, from the depth his voice seemed to have gained, seemed to like that idea.

Stéphane appeared to consider that for a moment and then smiled at him.

"Is our delightful third correct, Johnny," Stéphane asked, somehow making the whole idea sound completely dirty, "did you want to watch?"

Johnny just licked his lips; he very much wanted to touch too, but he knew that glint in Stéphane's eye, his lover had an idea and Stéphane's ideas rarely turned out anything but wonderful.

"Yes," he said after a moment, "I think I do."

For that he was rewarded with one of Stéphane's huge smiles.

"Shall we put on a show, do you think?" Stéphane asked, looking at Evan.

"Yeah," Evan replied, clearly excited.

Johnny thought they would go at it again then, but Stéphane turned to look at him again.

"Go and sit over there, Mon Amour," Stéphane told him and nodded at the chair just across the way.

Quite a lot of Johnny did not like that idea.

"Be a good boy," Stéphane said and leant over and kissed him on the nose, "and we will make it a very, very good show."

There was no winning when Stéphane looked at him like that, but it was quite hard to make himself actually leave the couch. He settled into the chair and brought his knees up in front of him so he could hug then, and only when he was sat did Stéphane turn back to Evan. Then the pair simply went for it.

Johnny found his whole attention completely grabbed as Stéphane all but climbed on top of Evan and seemed to be trying to devour the taller man. It seemed as if Stéphane was taking no prisoners and Johnny's eyes followed the course of Stéphane's hand as it ghosted over Evan's chest and then travelled south, before wrapping around Evan's cock and drawing a long, low moan from Evan's occupied mouth. Stéphane had promised a good show, and Johnny had to admit that it was definitely that. His cock throbbed mercilessly as he watched, but he did not move to touch himself, instead placing all his attention on his two lovers.

Not to be outdone by Stéphane, Evan appeared to let the Swiss get away with being in charge for a while and then pushed Stéphane back onto the other end of the couch before taking over. Evan even went so far as to push Stéphane's legs apart and run one hand down under Stéphane's thigh, fingers disappearing over and behind Stéphane's balls. The way Stéphane lifted his hips and groaned into the still ongoing kissing, Johnny did not need to see what Evan was more than obviously doing. It actually intrigued him, as well as aroused him, because in the three times they had been together, and the rather large number of times they had had sex during those three visits, Evan had only topped four times. Evan had always seemed to prefer Johnny in that position, but not it appeared with Stéphane. He and Stéphane switched randomly, so he was pretty sure Stéphane was not about to complain, but Evan appeared very determined.

The thought of taking his eyes off what his two lovers were doing to each other never crossed Johnny's mind, he just reached blindly for the small drawer in the table beside the chair. He had learned while Stéphane had been staying with him that getting to the bedroom didn't always happen and he liked to be prepared. Groping around in the little drawer, he was pleased to find it was still stocked with some of those little sachets of lube, but was dismayed to realise there were no other small metalicised packets. In the end he just tossed the lube sachets onto the couch, in reach of Evan's long arms and decided to worry about condoms later.

The grin Evan sent his way for the gift was almost evil and Johnny felt his body heating up even more. He also sent up a prayer of thanks to whoever had made him remember to have the furniture treated with a spray that meant stains came straight off. Evan spent several more minutes lavishing attention on Stéphane, during which time Johnny had to hold himself very still for fear of leaping at the pair, and then Evan reached for the lube. There was no verbal communication between Evan and Stéphane, but Johnny definitely saw a conversation in body language during which Evan showed Stéphane the small packet as a request and Stéphane lifted his free leg higher and leant back further, clearly giving his consent.

Johnny felt his nerves all but rattling with desire as Evan ripped open the sachet and coated his fingers before pushing them into Stéphane. The kissing seemed to have been forgotten now as Stéphane let his head fall back against the couch cushion and made the most wanton noise known to man. Hugging his legs, Johnny prayed for strength to stay put, because it was possibly one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

It took Evan what really should have been an embarrassingly short time to get four fingers into Stéphane, something which made Johnny's blood pump all the faster. All the while Stéphane made the most debauched sounds and put on the show he had promised.

"Condom?" Evan finally asked, sounding almost as desperate as Johnny felt.

It took him a second to realise that he had been asked a question and then his brain totally failed to tell him where the nearest supply was, because he was so completely focussed on Evan and Stéphane.

"Non," Stéphane said and caught his attention and Stéphane's.

Evan looked confused and disappointed, but Johnny was pretty sure Stéphane did not mean what Evan seemed to think he did.

"This is forever, yes?" Stéphane asked simply, looking directly at Evan.

After a moment Evan nodded, then Stéphane looked at Johnny and smiled; they were already sure.

"Then continue," was all Stéphane said and wiggled his hips in a very suggestive manner.

Evan did not move for long seconds, but then he smiled and used the second sachet on himself, before moving in close and slowly pushing into Stéphane. Johnny felt something in him kind of go click; in fact it was such a strong feeling that he was quite surprised it wasn't so loud it distracted his lovers. It was like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place and he actually shuddered. A virtual breath he had not even realised he had been holding released and everything felt perfect. It didn't help much with the sitting still, however.

He managed it for another couple of minutes through a supreme act of will as he watched Evan slowly thrust in and out of Stéphane, going deep with every thrust. He even managed to keep his self control when Evan began to speed up, but when Stéphane reached for his own cock, that was too much. It might have been embarrassing had anyone been taking any notice of him, but he all but launched himself across the gap and fell to his knees next to the sofa. Then he reached for Stéphane's cock, brushing Stéphane's hand away with his own and making himself part of the action. Stéphane's reaction was to swear and grab for the couch cushions, so Johnny decided all was good.

He could tell Stéphane was fit to burst; his lover was hard and the head was already slick with pre-come. Going with the flow, Johnny timed his hand to Evan's thrusts and together it didn't take them long to drive Stéphane over the edge. Stéphane came all over Johnny's hand and Evan stilled while Johnny milked Stéphane for everything he had. He loved to see Stéphane completely undone and watching Evan mostly achieve that himself, but giving a little help himself had Johnny revelling in it all. Watching both his lover's carefully, he lifted his hand and very slowly licked it. The taste of Stéphane exploded in his senses and he relished it.

Evan had to have been close, because it seemed that was enough to do it for him without so much as another movement and Johnny had to reach out to stop Evan falling forward from the somewhat awkward angle. It made him all the more desperate, and, without waiting for either of his lover's to recover, he climbed to his feet.

"Bedroom," he decided very distinctly and strode off, expecting the other two to follow him.

His whole body was buzzing and he wasn't sure how much self control he had left. Busying himself making sure the lube was in easy reach kept him from going crazy for a little while and, luckily, by the time he had fetched a special tube from the bathroom, Evan and Stéphane seemed to have recovered enough to actually make it to the bedroom.

"Poor Johnny," Stéphane said, making himself comfortable on the bed; "you have been neglected."

"We should rectify that," Evan added, also climbing onto the bed.

Johnny was kind of left just standing there until Stéphane patted the bed between him and Evan. Always quick on the uptake, Johnny filled the space and was a little surprised when Stéphane urged him to face Evan.

"We were thinking," Evan said and gave him a quick peck of a kiss, "that long, drawn out foreplay might kill you."

On that they had his complete agreement.

"But," Stéphane added while nibbling at his ear, "Evan and I need a few minutes to recover."

None of them were teenagers anymore, so Johnny understood that one.

"So," Evan dragged his attention back, "we thought you should prepare me..."

"While I prepare you," Stéphane added.

"And then we could see how flexible we really are," Evan finished and Johnny brain did its best to explode at that mental image.

"Oh god," was about his most coherent thought, but he didn't hang around when Evan passed him the lube.

The whole trying to prepare Evan while Stéphane was doing the same to him gave him a big clue that the whole three together thing was not going to be as easy as porn liked to make out. He kept getting distracted and he only had so many brain cells to focus on what he was doing. The whole thing took longer than it normally would have done, but Johnny couldn't say he didn't enjoy the whole process and, by the time Stéphane deemed all ready, he was willing to beg.

"Come," Stéphane said simply and pulled him towards the end of the bed, giving Evan room to lie down on his back and spread his legs.

Johnny didn't need any instruction after that, moving in and lifting those long legs up to give himself access. It was Stéphane who coated him with lube, something that caused him to almost bite through his lip and then he lined up and sank in. His thighs actually shook as his nerves sang with delight. Watching Evan and Stéphane, seeing them come together, had ramped up his system making him super sensitive to everything and he felt like he wanted to explode. He had to stop, to gather his self control and then he made a couple of experimental thrusts, one of which made Evan moan loudly, before he stopped and leant forward.

He knew what he wanted and it was not to go off without the threesome being complete. Stéphane seemed to have picked up on his urgency, because there was no delay as his Swiss lover moved in behind him. It was almost as if he had died and gone to heaven as Stéphane slowly pushed into him in the same way he was buried in Evan. The sensations were wonderful, but it was not just that, it was the fact that it was all three of them together. If Stéphane and Evan together had been the final piece of the puzzle, this was the sticky back plastic that would never let the puzzle come apart again.

Johnny knew when they started moving, but he was only vaguely aware of what he was making his body do at a conscious level; it was all subconscious responses. He felt as out of control as he had done that first time with Stéphane and he could do even less about it. Clawing on was all he could manage and his movements were not exactly graceful or clever.

"It is your turn, Mon Amour," Stéphane whispered in his ear, "just let go."

He didn't want to let go, not quite yet, but his body really was over sensitised and his vampire nature was almost at the surface and pretty soon he didn't have a choice. With Stéphane buried hilt deep in him, he thrust firmly into Evan and stretched out over his recumbent lover before letting his fangs descend and sliding them into Evan's willing flesh. Everything whited out with pleasure then and he felt Evan buck up underneath him, driving their hips together even more and he was coming and coming and coming. His body did not seem to want to give up the high and the blood combined with the sex left him shaking with ecstasy.

Evan was completely still beneath him except for the steady rise and fall of his chest, but then Johnny had not expected anything else. Stéphane did not seem to care that he had not come again and carefully separated them so that Johnny could do the same with Evan, at which point a nice lie down seemed to be in order.

"Does he always pass out?" Stéphane asked as Johnny carefully rearranged himself and Evan on the bed so Evan was in a more comfortable position.

Stéphane was on his other side watching rather intently.

"Every time I bite him, yes," he replied, carding his fingers through Evan's hair, where his lover's head was now on his chest.

He looked over to Stéphane and smiled, reaching out his other hand to the beautiful Swiss.

"He says it's pleasure overload," he explained, feeling more than a little smug; "he'll come round in a minute."

Stéphane smiled back.

"I think perhaps Evan should not have told you that," Stéphane said, clearly amused; "I think your ego may be big enough already."

Johnny found himself giggling at that; it was possible his lover had a point.

"You never seem to complain," was his not so fabulous comeback.

"That would be rude," Stéphane replied, so Johnny slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"I don't know why I put up with you," he said with a huff, but couldn't help laughing again, because Stéphane was giving him a big-eyed, kicked puppy look.

"Because you love me?" was the mischievous suggestion.

It was a little joke, but Johnny felt his heart explode with warmth nonetheless.

"Yes," he said, finding his throat feeling oddly constricted, "yes, I do."

His whole year had gone to hell in March, in fact it could have been his whole life, but now he was right where he wanted to be. Nothing was the same anymore, nothing at all, but he was beginning to realise it was good. Where he would be and what he would be doing if he hadn't turned off the main street in Moscow he had no idea, but he wasn't thinking about that anymore. He had more than he could have asked for right there with him and he felt suddenly choked up.

"Johnny," Stéphane said gently, "are you alright?"

"Fine," he promised, refusing the give in to the strange urge to cry even though he was incredibly happy, "just being me."

He was saved any awkward conversation following that by Evan starting to wake up. The first indication that Evan was coming back was a small shift and then there was a little mumble of something Johnny chose not to decipher and finally Evan lifted his head.

"I did it again then?" was the bleary question.

"You did," Johnny said and hid any wayward feelings behind a bright smile, "it was most gratifying."

"You were most, ummm, adorable, Mon Chou," Stéphane said, almost smiling and making Evan blush with embarrassment.

Johnny almost laughed at Stéphane's choice of pet name.

"I think," Evan said, covering his embarrassment, "I'm the least adorable one in this bed."

"Only with your clothes on, Sweetcheeks," Johnny said and laughed.

"We'll see who's adorable," Evan said with a wicked gleam in his eye that worried Johnny for just a second, after which Evan was tickling him and he was too busy screeching with uncontrollable laughter.

Of course Stéphane joined in; there was no way Johnny could expect sense from the over grown chocolate addict and they both ganged up on him. In the end he had to resort to letting his vampire out to get the upper hand, which led to more sex and more biting, since he was a little too involved to control himself and it was Stéphane this time, until they all ended up in a sated heap. It was one of those perfect moments and Johnny finally decided that it was time.

There was something he had been planning for a while, ever since he began to worry about other vampires and he carefully crawled off the bed.

"Come back," Stéphane said with a pout.

"In a minute," he replied with a smile, "stay right there."

He had something for both of his lovers and he had thought he'd give them to them later, but it felt right then, so he padded into the living room and fished them out of the drawer where he had put them for safe keeping. Walking back into the bedroom, he climbed back onto the bed and then passed a small red box to Stéphane and a small black one to Evan.

"I had these made for you," he said, feeling a little nervous, "it would make me very happy if you would wear them."

Evan and Stéphane looked at each other and then both opened their boxes at the same time.

"Oh," Stéphane said in little more than a whisper, but it was Evan who pulled his from his box first.

On the end of a silver chain was a simple, shaped cross. Johnny had chosen it carefully to go with Evan, not too ornate or gaudy, but with simple lines, decorated with a single tear drop, blood red garnet and some light, engraved scrollwork. Stéphane's when he pulled it out and also held it up, was a little more delicate. Also silver it had some filigree work and each end of the cross was set with a diamond shape of garnet. Both were small enough to be worn as an everyday item and he hoped his lovers would like them.

"It is beautiful, Mon Amour," Stéphane said, carefully fingering his cross, "and I have no doubt it will keep me safe."

Johnny smiled a little; at least his motivations were clear. He looked at Evan and waited. He knew Evan already had a cross, but it was so small and he wanted to make damn sure Evan would not be accosted by any more vampires. Evan smiled at him and, ever the man of few words, simply fastened it around his neck.

"I'll never take it off," Evan promised and lent forward and gave him a quick kiss.

"Are there many vampires around here, do you know?" Stéphane asked casually as Johnny helped his lover put on his cross as well.

"Not anymore," Johnny said without thinking and then realised what he's just revealed.

He hadn't mentioned to either Evan or Stéphane what their visit had led him to do and he suddenly found himself the centre of attention.

"Anymore?" Evan asked, knowing him far too well it seemed.

"I cleaned house," he said casually and climbed off the bed, hoping without much real belief that his lovers would leave it there.

He needed a shower, so he very purposely walked towards the bathroom.

"You did what?" Stéphane could be as melodramatic as he could it seemed by the level of volume that question had.

"I cleaned house," he repeated, busying himself with pulling some fresh towels from the cupboard; "there are no vampires left in about twenty miles all round."

He was about to step out of the room when he found Evan in his way.

"Let's get this straight," Evan said, refusing to let him past, "you went after vampires by yourself, deliberately."

Evan sounded more than a little worried and Stéphane was standing only a foot or so away with a similar expression of anxiety.

"Yes," Johnny said, realising he was not getting away with it.

"Why?" Stéphane asked, clearly concerned about the whole thing.

He was stuck now, he had to explain.

"Because I could feel them," he said, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut, "and they were a danger and I couldn't just leave them there. They think I'm some old Russian vampire who's decided to move in and set up home. According to the hunters the locals are scared shitless and none of them will be trying anything anytime soon."

Evan still did not look happy, but Stéphane looked thoughtful, which was possibly worse. The Swiss skater fingered the cross around his neck.

"You did this for us," was Stéphane's conclusion and Johnny couldn't exactly deny it.

He felt all kinds of awkward that he had all but gone caveman on his lovers' behalves.

"I couldn't stop myself," he admitted, not sure it was a good thing; "I began having nightmares and I couldn't think about anything else. I had to make it safe."

It could have been incredibly dangerous, he knew that, but he had had no choice and it wasn't as if there had been any particularly old vampires hanging around his part of New Jersey. Vampires needed a hunting ground and New York attracted the stronger ones, at least as far as he could tell.

"You," Evan said, as if he was about to launch into some tirade, but then he sagged a little, "are going to give me grey hairs."

Johnny did his very best to look apologetic, but he refused to feel guilty.

"My powers keep growing and changing," he said quietly, "everything seems to affect them in some way. Having you both coming here, it changed how I felt, something shifted. I don't know, maybe it made it real."

It wasn't easy to explain; he didn't always understand himself these days so letting someone else know the truth was difficult.

"Mon Amour," Stéphane said, placing a hand on his arm and making him turn, "it pains me that you endangered yourself," Stéphane paused, "but thank you."

Stéphane gave him a small smile and so he sent one back. He was so focused on his Swiss boyfriend that he actually squeaked when arms wrapped round him from behind and Evan pulled him close.

"Please tell me you don't plan to challenge every vampire you meet," was what Evan said.

"Not unless I have to," Johnny replied honestly; "but they come anywhere near anyone I love and all bets are off."

He wasn't about to lie; it was just the way it was.

"And I also agreed to help the hunters in New York," he added, since he might as well confess it all; "not to hunt, so don't worry. I think that would be a spectacularly bad idea, but occasionally they might need my help to find the lay of the land. Since they put their lives on the line daily to make sure the vampires don't get out of hand I figured I couldn't say no."

Evan sighed and kissed the side of his neck.

"I'm calling my stylist tomorrow," Evan said in an exasperated tone, "and telling him to get in the dye."

Johnny finally began to relax; Evan never joked unless he was okay with a situation, or at least mostly.

"You'd look nice with a shock of red in the back," he commented, leaning back and enjoying the closeness.

Evan remained exactly as he was for about two seconds.

"Oh no," Evan finally said and stepped back, releasing him, "no way; you are not styling me. You look great in your style, but I'd look ridiculous. Um ... style Stéphane; he's your height."

The panic was entirely Evan and so absolutely adorable that Johnny wanted to kiss him and laugh at him at the same time. Stéphane just laughed.

"Never change, My Little Mongoose," he said and kissed Evan on the cheek, "I love you just the way you are."

And he did, he really did.

"Come on," he said and took Stéphane by the hand and Evan by the wrist, "let's shower. It'll be cosy, but I'm sure we'll manage."

It was an unconventional relationship, one many people would never understand, but Johnny loved it. He had two wonderful men and they had his heart neatly in their hands. Being a vampire made him different and it was something that brought new problems all the time, but it had also given him two people to love who loved him back. His future was still up in the air in so many ways and yet this was all he needed at the moment; the warmth and companionship and togetherness. The rest would all happen or not happen and he felt a greater sense of stability than he had in years.

As he led his lovers to the bathroom he could definitely say one thing; he was happy.

**THE END**


End file.
